Hetalia: My Friend, for Eternity
by Bai-Marionette
Summary: Children!AU He didn't know he had made friends with the very son of the Devil. All he knew was that he finally had a friend. Finally, a friend that wouldn't leave him, no matter what he did…He finally had someone. RusAme.
1. A Friend

**His Own Boogie-Man**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Children!AU He didn't know he had made friends with the very son of the Devil. All he knew was that he finally had a friend. Finally, a friend that wouldn't leave him, no matter what he did…He finally had someone. RussAme

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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**Recommended Listening: **"Dreamcatcher" by Secret Garden

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**.:Chapter One:.**

_A Friend_

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Little Alfred hid under his covers, tears marring his features. It was his entire fault. It was his fault: the car coming, the ball coming to a stop in the middle of the road… the part where Mathew got hurt. It was his fault.

_**He shouldn't have kicked the ball over that high. He had known Mathew wouldn't catch it. His younger brother was too short.**_

_**But the little blonde boy had run after the ball, saying, "I got it, I got it, Alfie! Don't worry, I'll be a good baby brother and win this time!" Alfred had only enough time to scream, "Mattie!" Right as said boy took off to retrieve the ball from the middle of the street…**_

…_**Right into the path of an incoming car.**_

Alfred sniffled, scrunching his eyes tight. He didn't want to see that memory again. It was all his fault. He was supposed to be the big brother, but instead of him getting hurt and ending up in a coma, it was his baby brother, Mathew.

Little Mathew, who sat alone in his little hospital bed, sleeping. Alfred took every chance he could to visit, but all he saw his baby brother do was sleep. He didn't wake up. He didn't smile when Alfred came in and then try to fuss over his hair, trying to force Alfred's cowlick to lie down.

He didn't open his blue-violet eyes and try to help Alfred read one of the many books Alfred would bring home from the school library.

He didn't wake up. He had asked his parents why but they said Mathew was just sleeping and would wake up when God told him to. But Alfred had a deep suspicion that they were lying to him. He knew they were lying, that Mathew might never wake up and play with him ever again.

That he was a terrible big brother for letting this happen when he was supposed to be the hero and protect them.

He sniffled, cowering deeper under his covers. Loud voices came from down the hall and pass the stairs. Alfred whimpered as he heard his father yell once more. They were arguing over bills again, Mathew's bills, in particular.

Alfred sniffed, because of him, his daddy had to work overtime at the office and his mommy was always taking extra shifts at the store she helped run. But money was still tight and if Alfred was hearing the news right, then money was going to be like this for a while. They were in something like a depression, what was it, oh yes, a recession.

They were in a recession and because of his getting Mathew hurt, his family was suffering from his baby brother's medical bills.

Alfred whimpered once more as he heard his mother crying and his father trying to console her. His blue eyes were dark with sadness. They had been fighting like this a lot. Money was getting harder to manage. It was his entire fault.

If he hadn't kicked that ball so high, Mathew would still be here, and his family would all be together, no fighting, no forever sleeping, and just smiling like the happy family they were supposed to be.

Alfred whimpered for possibly the hundredth time that night. He peeked out from under his covers to look at the time on his Batman clock. It read back to him, in green lettering, 8: 54. He nodded sadly, as he sat up in bed, the blanket falling off his head and slipping down his shoulders. It was nearly time for him to go to bed, anyways.

He started first grade, tomorrow…

Mathew would have started kindergarten.

Alfred held back a sob, as he brought his knees to his chest.

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**Mr. Vargas' room, first grade**

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Alfred stood in the doorway of the brightly colored classroom. He saw all the other kids, lots of kids, running around and playing and laughing, but he couldn't find it in him to join them. He looked at the name plate on the door, reading it perfectly as "Mr. Feliciano Vargas, first grade room 121".

He looked to the other door, and saw, "Mr. Tino Väinämöinen, kindergarten room 120". His usually sky-blue eyes darkened. That would have been Mathew's room, he remembered from reading the paper the school sent to his home in the mail.

He looked down at his red Converses; how they were new despite how his family could not really afford much. All of his clothes were new on him, his white graphic tee of SpongeBob, and his new dark shorts.

The only thing he wore that wasn't new was his Uncle Fred's military bomber jacket. He had given it to Alfred, since he had just turn into a "big boy" and had deserved it.

Alfred eyed the many badges and pins on the brown leather. Uncle Fred, his mother's older brother, had given to him right at the end of his birthday, when Alfred was going to bed, it was his present-that and new scooter, but it was the bomber jacket he loved the most.

It his last piece of his Uncle Fred. Uncle Fred had died in Iraq. He had read the letter, even though it wasn't for him. He had been eating cereal and making sure Mathew didn't spill his all over his shirt. He had seen his mommy coming in and had asked her, "Mommy, this paper says Uncle Fred was KIA, what's a KIA?"

He hadn't known then, but he knew now. KIA meant Killed-In-Action. His dear and sweet, and funny, Uncle Fred had been killed on the battlefield. He had had to watch his mommy for a long time. She didn't smile for three whole days and had cried a lot, saying she had lost the last one, the last Carmen family member.

Carmen was his mommy's last name.

Alfred bit his lip softly and kicked an invisible pebble across the floor as he finally sighed and made his way to the cubbies to put away his little Spiderman backpack. His lunch was in it, his mom said, and she had given him a few dollars in case he was still hungry for lunch that day.

He easily ducked out of the path of a little Korean boy who tried to jump at him, calling out, "I claim this boy in the name of South Korea!" Alfred knew what Korea was; it was split in two because the two halves couldn't decide whether or not to be friends with each other.

Alfred didn't want to be caught up in the friend problem and so he moved away, saying, "No, thank you." He remembered to use his manners. His mommy would be proud of him. The little Korean boy had seemed shocked at first, and then appeared about ready to cry, but then another boy came. One with long hair and who looked like a girl, who said, "Im, get up, we're having rice balls at my table."

The long-haired boy looked back at Alfred, who shyly looked away, digging the toe of his shoe into the tile and blushing. He had his hands behind him and before he could say anything, the long-haired boy snorted and stuck his nose in the air, to Alfred's surprise, and walked away. He took the Korean boy with him, who had stopped crying and seemed happy about eating "rice balls with Yao, for the great land of Korea".

Alfred was hurt and confused. He stood, dejected, at the cubbies. Then, as his eyes burned, he sighed softly once more, as he slowly made his way to the reading circle where everyone was gathering.

He sat down, next to a little boy, who was shorter than him with large eyebrows. He sat up straight, with good posture, and had bright emerald eyes. His hair was a bit messy, but blonde with speckled brown dots. He was a bit pale, but then again, Alfred was a bit tanner than most since he played outside a lot.

He wore a pair of dark brown pants, some kind of darker brown boots, and a white long-sleeved shirt, with a bright red tie under the collar. He wasn't smiling or really acknowledging Alfred, but the little American boy tried anyways.

He thought of something nice to say, "I really like your eyes. They're pretty." The boy with the big eyebrows turned to raise said brows in amazement. "What did you just say?" He asked, Alfred saw a gap in the other's front teeth, and he thought he had done something wrong.

His blue eyes showing hurt, he stammered, "I-I said, I really like your eyes. That's all. I didn't mean to offend you or hurt your feelings, I promise."

He was about to turn away and pretend he hadn't made a total fool of himself on his first day of school, when he was supposed to be making friends, when the big-browed boy said, "You didn't offend me, I didn't hear you all the way."

Alfred blinked, and then smiled, thinking he had a new friend. He held out a hand, "I'm Alfred F. Jones, the F stands for Fred, like my Uncle Fred." He saw the other boy smile slightly back and then shake his head. "How do you do, Alfred, my name's Arthur Kirkland, pleased to meet you."

Alfred blinked and then cocked his head in confusion. "How do I do what?" Arthur frowned in confusion, about to ask what the other meant when another blonde boy came in and sat in Arthur's lap. "Mon ami," the boy said, his big blue eyes showing false hurt as he held a hand dramatically to his forehead. "You left me at the toy bin. That was not nice."

Arthur scowled and then shoved the blonde from his lap. The blonde landed on his stomach, his blue shirt riding up on his back and his tight red leggings bent at the knee with his little black heels kicking at the air.

The blonde boy pushed himself up on his arms, huffing as he pushed his long light-blonde hair from his face. "That was not funny, mon ami. You should apologize now, before I tell on you."

Arthur huffed, "I'm not saying sorry to an ugly frog!" Alfred's eyes widened at the name-calling, surprised. The blonde boy stood up, his eyes about to brim over as he tried to glare at Arthur, who glared back. Alfred saw the blonde's blue shirt was too short, he could see some of the other's pudgy belly.

"I'm telling on you," the blonde said and was about to stomp off when Alfred took his hand, his eyes hurt and feeling the need to apologize for his new friend's actions. "Please don't tell on Arthur, you just scared him is all. Please don't get him in trouble. I'll apologize for him, I'm sorry."

Arthur gaped at Alfred, as did the blonde boy. The blonde boy blinked and then smiled, as he sat down beside Alfred. Arthur huffed. The blonde introduced himself, leaning into Alfred's lap, as he fluttered his eyes, and placed his hands to either side of Alfred.

"Oui, since you were nice to me, I won't tell on the meanie Arthur." He stuck his tongue out at Arthur, who stuck his tongue out back. "I'm Francis Bonnefoy, I'm from Paris~"

Arthur pointed at him, glaring, "No, you're not! Your parents are, you just speak French and act like the frog you are!" Francis stuck out his bottom lip in a cute pout, to impress Alfred, "Same difference, prissy boy."

Arthur's face turned red slightly. "H-hey, you can't call me that, you-you frog!" Francis huffed, tossing his hair over his shoulder as he laid his head in Alfred's lap and took the American's hand to play with his fingers. "You are so childish, Angleterre, one would suspect you don't like me." Francis looked up to Alfred, with big blue puppy eyes. "You like me, don't you, Alfred? You don't hate me, like Arthur does, do you?"

Alfred beamed, to Francis' joy and Arthur sulk. "Nope~ I like everybody. I like your boots, Francis. They're really nice." Francis giggled, as he lifted one of his feet. "I know right? Paris has all the great fashion stuff. One day, I'm going to go to an art school there and be a fashion designer there."

His eyes lit up, "Oh! Oh, maybe I could be a model too! My mommy says I have a modeling face and that all I have to do, would be to lose the last of my baby fat." He poked his belly, smiling, "I'll be skinny in no time~"

Arthur cut in, "A model, so what? When I grow up, I'm going to go back to England and be a part of Parliament so I can assist her Majesty." He stuck his tongue out at Francis. "That's way better than being some stupid fashion designer or some skinny model."

Alfred smiled, "You guys are cute, but I like both your ideas!" Both boys, Francis and Arthur, looked at him, and said at the same time, "Really? You think we get our dreams to come true?"

Alfred nodded, playing with Francis's hair, since the blonde had never gotten his head out of his lap. "Yup, and when I become President or the best American astronaut, I'll go and say, 'I met those guys in my first grade class. They were my best friends~'."

Francis giggled, kicking out his feet joyfully, as Arthur blushed slightly and muttered something under his breath. "You don't mean that…"

Alfred begged to differ, "No, I do, Artie! You seem really smart, for someone in only the first grade," Arthur blushed again. "And I know you're gonna do great things in Parliament!" Arthur coughed to clear his throat, "Why, thank you, Alfred." He smiled at the boy, Alfred smiled back.

Francis tugged on Alfred's hands, "Oh, oh, do me! Do me next! What do you think about me?" Alfred laughed, earning a few looks at him when a few other kids heard the joy inside of it. Some crept closer, if only to hear what was being said to make the grumpy English boy, Arthur, smile and to find out why the French boy, Francis, was in his lap.

"You, Francis," Alfred began, "are probably going to make to lots of money in Paris, as a famous fashion designer." He curled a lock of Francis' blonde hair around his finger, more kids coming around him. Alfred didn't notice them; neither did Arthur or a giggling Francis.

"And I would wear whatever I could find of all your fashion labels, like any good friend would do!" Alfred said, "I would advertise for you, when the cameras take all these pictures of me. When I hold my arm," he demonstrated, holding up an arm, "All the cameras are gonna see your fashion labels."

Francis beamed, as he clapped his hands together, oh-so happy. "Really? You would do that for me, Alfred?" When Alfred nodded happily and said, "Uh-huh, sure," Francis took it as a sign to do a traditional sign of gratitude in his home. He leaned up and kissed Alfred on the cheek.

Francis smiled, "Thank you, Alfred. You're really sweet." Arthur huffed, not even knowing of the crowd behind them, said, "I want to thank Alfred, too!" He leaned over and pressed his lips to Alfred's other cheek, making the American blush.

"Oh, oh, I want to kiss Alfred, too!"

"Me too, I want to hear good things about me, too!"

Alfred and his newfound friends turned and their eyes widened as kids came to Alfred in seemingly dozens to hear what good things he could say about them.

Luckily, Mr. Vargas finally swooped in, to save Alfred, as a dozen children-boys and girls alike- kissed his cheeks and said thank yous after ach compliment he gave them.

Arthur huffed, not liking all of the attention being given to his new friend. Francis was giggling as he crawled over to sit by Alfred so he wouldn't be stepped on or accidentally kissed by someone meaning to get Alfred.

Some of the kisses were sloppy and some were going for other places when his cheeks were occupied, his nose, his glasses, his forehead— it was a bit of a mess.

"Alright, everyone, settle down, and please stop kissing Alfred," Mr. Vargas said, smiling as he gently pushed a small Polish boy away from Alfred who laughed as he wiped his cheek from the numerous kisses. Mr. Vargas looked to Alfred and handed him a wet wipe to clean his face, "Ve~, little womanizer, you~"

Alfred blushed, as he looked to Arthur and Francis, the French boy waved happily at him, beaming, and then the other children smiling at him. They were nice to me, he realized, first grade might not be so bad.

They were amidst their second story, Alfred lying on his back and Arthur on his stomach, propped on his elbows, while Francis had made himself comfortable by lying on Alfred again. The other kids were deep into the story as well.

It was a tale of fairy tales, something Arthur seemed to be fascinated about, and Alfred only found interesting because of the fact that it had heroes.

When suddenly, came voices at the door, Mr. Vargas looked up from telling the story to see a tall blonde boy being led into the room by another teacher. It was Mr. Edelstein, the third grade teacher from down the hall.

He cleared his throat, and then announced, as he turn the pale blonde to face the classroom of children. "I am terribly sorry to interrupt your class, Mr. Vargas and students, but," he gently pushed the pale blonde forward a few steps only for the blonde to seem to be deeply rooted to the spot. "I seem to have confused one of your students for my own; since he is a bit tall for his age."

The pale blonde boy looked to the class, his face showing his slight fear and hesitation at being in a new area. "Um, privet, everyone…" He said, albeit a bit quietly and then he clasped his hands in front of his beige coat. He puffed out his chest, trying to appear brave. "I am Ivan Bragniski, a proud and strong Russian in American lands."

At first the class was silent and Ivan felt he had said the wrong thing. He deflated, frowning, as his violet eyes ran over the whole room. Were Americans still mad over that, what was it, the Cold war thing? But America and Russia were friends now, his mother said so! She said he would make lots of friends if he said where he was from and was brave.

He felt like he had a great mistake, until Alfred sat up and waved at him. "Hi, Ivan. You're from Russia, that's cool, my Uncle Fred went to Moscow, once, and he said it was a very pretty capital!" He took Ivan off guard, his compliment about his mother nation making his cheeks dust red slightly as he stammered, "Um, thank you…"

The American blonde then eased Francis out of his lap, with the greatest care. Knowing eyes were on him, he stood on his feet, brushed himself off before running to Ivan and properly extending his hand. "My name's Alfred, I'd be delighted to be your first friend here. I can introduce you to everyone, too!"

Ivan smiled, he felt a bit better when he saw Alfred was only about an inch shorter than him. He wasn't going to be called a freak for his height this year. There was someone else who was tall for their age. He shook hands with Alfred, "Privet, Alfred, I am called Ivan." Mr. Edelstein smiled, nodded and then turned on his heel and left to his own classroom.

Alfred beamed and then said, "We were just reading this story about knights and princesses, wanna hear it? It's really cool!" Ivan nodded, clapping his gloved hands together. "Da, that sounds fun!"

Alfred took his hand, missing the feel of the hard skin underneath and how Ivan's violet eyes flashed near dark purple as he came into a brighter area. He was led back to the reading area where Mr. Vargas greeted him. "Ve~, your eyes are purple, that's pretty!" The Northern Italian teacher clapped, "Yeah, my classroom is complete~"

Ivan sat beside Alfred, smiling as he looked around a bit. Everyone was looking him over and seeing he was friendly and he, remembering what his older said, waved at them and gave them his best and gentle smile. A few children inched back and closer to Alfred, who was oblivious as he laid back on his back so Francis could rest his head on his stomach.

Ivan wanted to frown, and ask why some of the children had moved away but his attention was averted as Mr. Vargas restarted the story so he could hear everything from the beginning. No one objected and Ivan got to hear the story.

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**Lunchtime**

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Alfred ran to his cubby, after he told Arthur and Francis were they were sitting. He turned around and saw Ivan behind him, confused. The Russian boy asked, "Um, forgive me for my question, but what are we doing, now?"

Alfred smiled; he liked being the one asked question instead of the one asking them. "That's easy! We're going to lunch to eat!"

Ivan nodded, and then frowned, "But my mother is not here to prepare lunch. I did not bring anything." Those violet eyes looked sad, "Do I have to starve. I did not think to ask for money either…"

Alfred's eyes went darker in sympathy, as he felt bad for Ivan. Then, he remembered the lunch his mommy had packed. She always packed a lot for him and he had saw Mathew's lunch with him, apparentally she had put it there on accident.

"That's okay, Ivan," he said he dug out his Marvel lunchbox and then Mathew's igloo one. He turned and gave Ivan the snow one. "My mommy packed my brother's lunch with me on accident, I just noticed, if you need any more food, I have more in my lunchbox to share with you." He held up his own lunchbox and Ivan smiled, "Really? I can eat what's in here?"

Alfred nodded and Ivan giggled. "Thank you, Alfred, you're too kind." Alfred laughed, "A lot of people have said that to me today!"

They made their way outside and Alfred turned to ask Ivan a few question about Russia when he saw the light-colored scarf around Ivan's neck. "Don't you get hot with that on?" He asked. Ivan shook his head.

"Actually, no, I don't, which is good because I like to wear this scarf every day." He puffed out his chest, not even knowing that he had opened his mouth a bit too wide and had accidentally allowed sunlight to gleam along his sharp canines. "My big sister made it for me, before we left Russia."

Alfred grinned, "Cool! I don't have a big sister, I'm the oldest, I have a baby brother though." Ivan looked intrigued by this. "Where is your little brother?"

Alfred's smile slimmed somewhat. "He's in the hospital, sleeping," Ivan was about to frown, and say he was sorry, like he thought he ought to when Alfred continued, "But don't worry, I just know Mattie is going to wake up and come home any day now! He likes learning and I doubt he is going to let sleep stop him from going to school."

Ivan smiled. He liked Alfred, he liked how his smile looked, how he was so happy and so optimistic. His eyes flashed dark, when Alfred turned and waved at Francis and Arthur across the yard. Yes, he thought, he will be my friend forever. He will never leave me.

_I won't let him leave me._

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**-END CHAPTER-**

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(I know I have no business starting up a new story when I have like 7 others in need of updating after the M-scare, but well~ How was it?)

I wanted to do a slightly less morbid or angsty fict. This seemed cute in my head, but trust me, anything that comes from this German mind, ends up dark…and angsty…and other shit…sooner rather than later.

But since pretty much everyone is a kid in this story, the rating might not go up to M for smut…maybe something else, but I know it will be T for a while.

Any questions? Comments? Leave it in a review and make me have a smile for my day~

~BrooklynBabbii

**Reviews get to play patty-cake with little Russia~**

**Ivan: **you know you want to be my friend, too~

**READ AND ****REVIEW****!**


	2. The Sleepover

**My Friend, For Eternity**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Children!AU He didn't know he had made friends with the very son of the Devil. All he knew was that he finally had a friend. Finally, a friend that wouldn't leave him, no matter what he did…He finally had someone. RussAme

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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Author Alert: telemarker

Story alert/ Favorites: **lafayette722, ChubbyCubby23, wolfspeaker01, Kagome Monia and Akuma Neko, gemstarre, DanieSora, MoonlitMelody, telemarker, summer164, Ashcola17, Friendly-Shadow, PurpleLightning12, emismpunk, Superkitty140, True Blue Chan, kukuki, **

Reviewer(s)!: **lafayette722, Kagome Monia and Akuma Neko, anon, Usagi323, DanieSora, MoonlitMelody, telemarker, Ashcola17, PurpleLightning12, emismpunk, kukuki, **

lafayette722: I'm glad I caught your attention, thank you for reviewing!

Kagome Monia and Akuma Neko: I hope this update is soon enough, thank you for reviewing!

anon: That is a valid point, but I did that for a reason. It's Francis' pet name for Arthur. He likes to make fun of him, by saying French makes everything better so he calls Arthur by the French translation for England. (Isn't he smart?) But thank you for pointing that out, I was hoping for someone to see that! Thanks for reviewing!

Usagi323: It is sad for Mattie, but Alfred has bigger problems ahead of him.

gemstarre: I love kids, so writing the countries as kids was fun for me. I'm glad you enjoy it. Thank you for reviewing!

DanieSora: That first part was Spanish, right. I understood it! Yay~ And I hope this update is soon enough for you.

MoonlitMelody: Really? You always wanted a story with a demonic!Ivan as a first grader? Maybe, we share minds. Great minds think alike and all that. (Cute and creepy, I like that! :D)

telemarker: They are, aren't they? …One of them wants to kill us all and you call that cute? We must be related! :DD

Ashcola17: Francis and Arthur are so cute as kids, they still bicker and fight and try to act like adults while children! (It's reversed, in the anime/manga, they're adults but bicker and act like children! XD IRONY!) Again, someone wants a demonic!Ivan as a firt-grader, are you guys brain-damaged or what? XD I'm sorry, that was some of my cruel sarcasm, but that's so funny to me! You guys just love him as a scary little kid! XD

PurpleLightning12: You know you want a piece of kid!Alfred. Don't deny it~ And I hope this update is soon enough for you, I have other stories to update too.

emismpunk: Don't worry, Mattie will be just fine…as long as he doesn't come between Ivan and Alfred. Then, he's shit out of luck. XD

kukuki: I'm really glad you think so, everyone seems to like the idea of the countries as little kids! c: You're very welcome, hun, it was my upmost pleasure to write this. I hope this update makes you happy~

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**I would like to give a vivid thank you with a billion virtual cookies and kisses and hugs to everyone who reviewed and/or made their story their favorite and put it on alert.**

**I did not think this story would take off like it did, in like a day. That's astonishing to me! I can't thank you all enough. So, as my only real way of thanks— **

**I present to you: **Chapter Two** of "**_My Friend, for Eternity_**"! **

**I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

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**Recommended Listening: **"Cruel Fairy Tale" by Wakeshima Kanon

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**.:Chapter Two:.**

_Sleepover_

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"Oui, you guys," Alfred turned from his tower of building blocks with Ivan, Arthur from his picture book, to see Francis running up to them. The little French boy was huffing for breath, as he finally came to their chosen play area.

He grinned, the dimples standing out in his cheeks, as he put his hands on his orange-clad hips. Orange leggings, this time, Alfred noticed, with black jack-o-lanterns decorating the sides. The French boy's shirt was that of the green eyes of a black cat, but it hung off one shoulder and had one sleeves with strips missing. It was still short, as well, some of Francis' pink belly showing underneath the dark shirt. He was wearing some black boots.

Francis caught the attention that Alfred was unknowingly giving him by looking over his outfit. He winked a kohl-lined eye, showing off his green dusted lids, as he inwardly rejoiced. He had to stay in style, just because he was in America, did not mean he had dress like a slouchy American. He was French, even if he wasn't born there, he was raised by French traditions and one of those traditions was to stay in style.

"I got good news, for all of you~" He chirped, as he dug into his new silvery glitter satchel. He absolutely loved his mother; she was always so top of things when it came to his tastes in fashion and accessories. He waved the three cream-colored envelopes in one orange-gloved hand. The black and green bangles on his wrist jingled, as he said, "My mother says I can have a Halloween party for my class and then have a sleepover for my friends."

Ivan was the first to speak; only beating Alfred by half a second. "Really, I am your friend?" The Russian boy seemed actually surprised. Alfred turned on him, grinning, "Of course, you are, dude! We're all friends, here." He began to count on his fingers, "You, and me, Francis, and Arthur…" he paused, and then he turned to the English boy, "Artie, do your imaginary friends count as our friends, too?"

Arthur's face turned pink, as he snapped, "They are not imaginary, they're real, I told you already!" He huffed and Alfred replied, "But we can't see them…"

Arthur tried to defend his fairy friends, vainly. "They don't like you enough to show themselves, then." At Alfred's hurt look, he stammered, "B-but, don't worry, um, they might open up to you lads sooner or later."

Alfred smiled, and Arthur sighed in relief as he picked up his picture book up again. Francis clapped his hands, trying to get the attention back to him. "Now, that Angleterre has finished defending his imaginary fairy friends," he said and he giggled when he heard Arthur's indignant cry that his fairy friends were real, he continued as if the other hadn't said anything, "We must get back on subject."

Ivan raised his hand, like he was in class again. Francis pointed at him, "Ivan, I call on you to speak." Ivan smiled, placing his hands in his lap, and then thought of a way to word his thoughts in English. "Um, when is the party? Depending on its time, I might not be able to go. My baby sister is going to be born soon."

Francis looked intrigued, "Really?"

Alfred was clapping, "Yeah, I'm not the only big brother in our group, anymore!" Arthur, his emerald eyes gleaming with curiosity, set aside his picture book. "You are going to have a baby sister? Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Ivan shrugged, his cheeks tinting pink. "I just found out, really, I finally asked my mother why she was getting so big all of a sudden."

Alfred's eyes shone. "I remember asking my mommy that, too. And let me guess," He said, smiling, "then she said, you were getting a baby sister soon." Ivan nodded, "Da, yes, I was so happy." He clapped his hands. "I can't wait to see her. Then you guys can see how good a big brother I can be."

Alfred clapped his hands, his little action figure wrist watch flopping down his arm. "Yeah, Ivan is going to be a big brother. I just know you'll be great. She'll be cute, just like you!" Arthur snickered at Ivan's sudden flushed cheeks, and Francis giggled behind his hands as he chose a seat beside Arthur.

Ivan stammered, "I-I'm cute?" Alfred nodded, not even realizing how his earlier had sounded, and being able to read the atmosphere enough to tell Ivan was slightly embarrassed ay being called cute by his friend. "Yeah," Alfred said, "You have pretty purple eyes; skin the color of white milk and that cute baby face." He clapped, "You're really cute, Ivan."

Ivan's face reddened further, as he sputtered. "T-thank you, Alfred…" Arthur's snickering was getting louder, and Francis was barely holding himself back from telling his American friend of their other friend's embarrassment. "You're welcome, dude," Alfred said and then he took a long look at Ivan's face. His face turned into one of slight amazement. "Wow…you're really red."

Ivan coughed into a hand, as an excuse to clear some of his embarrassment away. "D-da, yes, it is the weather, you see. It makes my skin heat up quickly." Alfred blinked and then looked outside to the falling leaves and multicolored autumn trees. "You have allergies or something?" He asked, thinking that was the only option.

Ivan's face was confused, but not wanting to get caught in his lie, said, "Yeah…allergies, that." Alfred nodded and then turned back to Francis, "I'll ask my mommy tonight, if I can go. Do I need a costume or anything?"

Francis nodded, his blonde hair falling into his face until he pushed some behind his ear. Arthur eyed the ruby ring on his finger. "Oui, it's a Halloween party. But after the party, if you stay for the sleepover, you can just take it off, then." Alfred nodded, and then smiled. "Okay, I can do that! I'll ask tonight!"

Francis smiled, "Oh yes, that's great! Ivan, are you going to ask your mom too?" Ivan nodded, "Da, yes, the baby is not due for a little while longer so I am sure my sister can take me if my mother cannot walk that day." He smiled, "I shall ask her tonight."

Francis turned to Arthur, who huffed, crossing his arms. "Please, Angleterre, Arthur, mon ami?" He cupped his hands together and looked at the English boy with his big pleading expression. The same one Francis used on his mother when he needed help with his make-up or for buying new clothes to wear every other week. "Will you please come to my Halloween party?"

Arthur's face dusted slightly, as he tried to look away. "My name is not England, it is Arthur, and I would appreciate it if you would stop calling me that." Francis continued his pleading look, and try as Arthur might, as he tried to hide his reddening face behind his picture book, he had already been persuaded.

He inwardly cursed a jellybean in England. "F-fine, frog, I'll come." Francis was already shoving an invitation into his hands, before he could finish, "If only, to show you Frenchmen how a real Englishman dresses in true Halloween attire."

"What does attire mean?" Francis asked, and Alfred frowned, "Yeah, what does that mean?" Ivan put his finger to his lip in thought. "I think it means you're tired." Alfred looked at him, "Really?" He tried to sound out the word. "A-tire-er," he cocked his head in thought, and then shrugged.

He turned to Ivan, "Maybe," he turned to Arthur, who looked at his friends, one green eye twitching ever so slightly. "Is that what attire means, Arthur? Does it mean you're tired?"

Arthur snapped, "No, you ninnies! Attire is clothes, like the one you're wearing right now!" Alfred let out a sound of recognition, as he slapped his forehead. Ivan's mouth made a small circle, as Francis blinked, and then giggled, waving his hand.

"Really, Arthur, you need to stop hanging around your older brothers so much. You are saying words you barely know." He tossed some of his hair over his shoulder with a shoulder as he dramatically sighed. "You are losing more of your youth everyday."

Arthur's nose wrinkled, "Stupid frog, stop watching so much soap operas, you are starting to act like those overdramatic pansies on the telly!" Francis huffed, pointing an orange-gloved hand at Arthur. "Do not," he said, "insult my Young and Restless. Those actors have more depth in them than you have taste buds!"

Arthur sputtered, "My taste buds are fine, thank you very much." Francis stuck out his tongue. "Your scones taste like baked dirt. My poodle could cook better than you, any day." Arthur's face reddened further as Francis made faces at him. He resorted to some low tactics. "This is coming from the same ninny who still wears pull ups!"

Alfred's eyes widened, as he turned back to the argument behind him. Ivan looked up from his block building. "What did he just say?" Alfred shrugged at him, as he turned to look back to hear Francis' response. "Some thing about pull-ups, I think."

"Ah, da, yes, I see," Ivan said and then he paused to frown. He made a face of confusion. "Aren't pull ups diapers?" He asked, Alfred thought about it. His blue eyes lit up, "You know, I think they are…"

"Let's listen, this might get interesting," Ivan suggested. "We can finish our tower later." Alfred nodded and both turned to hear Francis say, "I only wore those during the summer, because I didn't finish master the potty until after kindergarten, you evil meanie! I wear big boy undies, now!"

Arthur stuck out his tongue at the blushing French boy, "So? That makes you a recent learner. I was already potty-trained by the beginning of kindergarten." Francis huffed, and tried to think of something he could hold above the other. "Well," he said, smartly, "at least I don't need a night light and don't run to my mother and father's bed when it's raining outside!"

Arthur's face reddened. "Y-you stupid tyrant, you promised you wouldn't you wouldn't speak of that outside my room!" Then he snapped, "And that scary lightning, you ran with me to my mum's room, too! Don't deny it!"

Francis huffed, "At least, I am not afraid to say that it happened." Arthur snorted, face reddening. He didn't like admitting he was still afraid of the dark. Or that he was afraid of the day of when the tree outside his window would come crashing through the glass to snatch him off and sell him off to work as a slave for a mean ogre family.

He sputtered, "Yes, well, maybe I don't want to admit it. Maybe," he shrugged, "I just don't like sleeping alone when it rains, alright?" Francis smiled, putting a hand of Arthur's leg, who tried to quickly shove it off. "It is alright, Angleterre, I forgive you. We, beautiful Frenchmen, only hold grudges against two things."

Alfred picked his way into the conversation, "And what's that?" Ivan was behind Alfred, wanting to hear also. He hoped it wouldn't have to do with him. He wanted to make friends, not enemies.

Francis winked, and then said, "Those two things are: Germans and atrocious cooking." Ivan sighed; he was Russian, not German. He nodded, as he remembered making a meal for his sister when she was upset. She said he made good soup. He didn't make atro-whatever Francis said, cooking. Francis could still be his friend.

He smiled. Francis was still his friend. He nearly missed Arthur's hissed, "Are you implying that my cooking is atrocious, frog?" Ivan blinked, and then began to giggle at how easily the English and French boy found things to argue over. Alfred soon detached himself from the conversation to laugh with Ivan.

"Your shoes are so plain, Angleterre. What you need is a nice of Parisian heels to bring out our feminine hips!" Francis declared as he twirled a lock of his long hair. He pointed at Arthur's hips. "They are a bit wide for a boy, anyways…"

Arthur slapped at his hand, shoving his picture book closed much too harshly as he snapped, "There's nothing wrong with my shoes; they are just as popular in England as they are in America! Shut your mouth," he flushed, as he cried, "And there's nothing wrong with my hips!" His voice softened exceptionally as he murmured, "My older brother, Samuel says I'll eventually lose my baby fat there soon enough."

Francis seemed to finally see that his friend was a bit sensitive about his appearance and leaned in to give him a hug. Arthur sputtered as he realized Francis had hopped into his lap, and that people were staring at them. "It's alright, Arthur, I still love you, anyways~"

Arthur's face turned a deep red, as some children began to whisper amongst themselves. He tried to shove Francis off of him, but the other held tight as he fiddled with Arthur's messy blonde hair. "I think I have some hair stuff in my purse, I can fix your hair at lunchtime."

Arthur deflated, giving up. "I give up. Do what you want, just," he tried to end, bitterly. "Just, don't make me look like a fool…" Francis looked shocked and somewhat hurt at that. "Why, Angleterre, how could you think so lowly of my skills? I can do hair, my mother used to do my hair all the time! I learn from the best!"

Arthur groaned, "Whatever, frog…" Francis smiled and then, he hummed a tune as he dug in his purse to retrieve a few things. Pulling from it, a pink comb and a brown ribbon to match Arthur's vest and pants that day, he held the ribbon in his mouth as he tried to comb Arthur's hair.

Arthur tried to ignore the French boy, but ultimately, he had to admit, it felt good to have someone fuss over him and do his hair. He saw the ribbon and frowned. He did not want a pigtail. His hair may be a bit longer than it should have been, but he surely did not have enough hair to have a proper braid.

"Finished," Francis declared as he petted Arthur's head. He dug into his silver purse once more for his small mirror. He opened the compact and then smiled, as he proudly said, "Oui, I think I outdid myself."

Alfred and Ivan looked over. Alfred whistled low, eyebrows rising in amazement, "Not bad, Francis." Ivan nodded, "You do really well, for not even fifteen minutes. That's good." Francis absorbed the compliments from his friends, and then turned to Arthur. "So, Angleterre," he asked, "how did I do?"

Arthur's mouth was a thin line. He did not admit defeat. "I-it's…" he sighed, knowing he was in a tight spot. "It's tolerable, Francis." Said French boy translated the other's words as something positive. He hugged the English boy again, beaming, with his actions earning giggles all around. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Arthur! I knew you'd see things my way!"

He nearly had the whole play area in a fit of giggles when he pecked Arthur's cheek. Then, he pulled away, and left the boy's lap as if nothing had happened, choosing to pick up some book from the shelf about a princess with many dresses. He was lying on his stomach, propped on his elbows, with his hands cupping his cheeks as he kicked his feet idly and read.

Alfred laughed, "You guys are so funny," he said. Ivan nodded, "Da, Alfred is right. You two were meant to be friends." Francis looked up, and smiled. "I know right?" Whereas, Arthur said at the same time, tearing his face his from his reflection in the compact mirror to snap, "Absolutely not!"

Alfred and Ivan laughed all the more, as they set more blocks atop their tower. Arthur muttered things under his breath, most likely more of his ineffective curses as Francis continued to read about the story's vain but popular princess.

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**Francis Bonnefoy's residence, the Halloween party**

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"This is going to be awesome!" Alfred called out, into the night. He smiled, and then tried to smooth back his hair like his mother had done before. It was an attempt to tame his cowlick, and it was a failed attempt as well. He was wearing the costume his father had purchased for him, a brand new Robin the Boy Wonder outfit, with the cape, a few gadgets and the mask included. He also had his backpack for the sleepover, with a few games he had sneaked in without his mother noticing.

Alfred adjusted the black mask over his face, as he looked to the pale polar bear beside him. Ivan smiled, albeit hesitantly back, as he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves with fluffy white paws. The silver faux fur over his body, of his polar bear costume, clashed wonderfully against his pale skin. He had cream colored ears and a brown strap around his neck that carried a shiny golden bell.

Ever so softly, the tiny bell sang a small melody as he walked, and Alfred had already said that he liked the sound of the tiny bell. It was a coincidence that his pearl-white satchel seemed to go with his costume, nevertheless, he was prepared to sleepover and he had brought his Russian "water" from his father's cabinet in case he found the party's drinks needed a little kick to them.

He bit his lip, gently, as he adjusted the carmine bow over his "bear ears" slightly. His big sister had said to wear the bow with a special outfit, something dressy, to look like the bear in his favorite story: Beauty and the Beast. So, she had chosen a cream colored suit he had in his closet, with little black boots, white gloves, with a golden handkerchief to put at the base of his throat.

She had said this right before she had apologized, after Ivan had said he didn't know how people would react to seeing him in a pretty bow. Then she said he already looked adorable in nothing but the bear suit, and that he didn't need to wear the special clothes or the bow for an added effect, if he didn't want to. Then, she had burst into a fit of tears.

He inwardly sighed. His big sister could be so sensitive sometimes. She even made herself cry. He had told his big sister to walk him to Alfred's home; she had already memorized how to get there from all of the times his American friend had invited Ivan to sleep over. The American's mother and father had been nice to him and he had felt welcome…well that is, until he had walked and somehow found himself next to a cross.

Then, he didn't feel so welcome. He avoided that specific spot like the plague. To be near religious ornaments made his stomach hurt and he did not want to vomit on his host's floor. His big sister said that was bad manners and made his family look bad.

Alfred's mindless chatter about party streamers and snacks and games led Ivan from his thoughts of his home. He made a full effort to pay attention to Alfred's words, reply when needed and use some gestures if necessary, but most importantly, he tried to mimic Alfred's vigor.

"And that spelling test was easy," Alfred said, and then frowned. "I got a 98 though. I missed that one word. What was it? Um," Alfred paused to think and Ivan tried to help him remember. "Was it number twelve, Alfred?"

Alfred gave him a puzzled look and Ivan clarified. Sometimes it pained him to have such a good memory; as he thought that his demonic heritage could be so irritating in public. "Number twelve was the word flour."

"A flower?" Alfred looked around, and then pointed to a dark bush of tiny white flowers. "That's a flower." Ivan suddenly knew why Alfred had missed that word. He smiled, "It was flour, comrade, as in the baking kind."

Alfred's eyes lit up and then his mouth became a small circle. "Really," he asked, "The way Mr. Vargas used it made it seem like he was talking about the plant." Ivan recalled the way their teacher had used the word: "_Ve~ Its homophone goes into soil, this word goes into the mixing bowl."_

Ivan had a slight suspicion that Alfred had merely heard wrong, but he said, "Da, his accent might have tricked you. I got a 100." So did Arthur, Francis and those Asian kids who liked to isolate themselves from the other children in the class. Especially the one, named Yao, who lived nearby Ivan.

Ivan's eyes flashed. Yao had a thing for annoying him with his talking and thinking he was better than everyone else since he said he was from China and he was actually supposed to be bumped up grades.

Ivan didn't like the little Chinese boy much, but the little Asian had taken to following and harassing him any time he chose. Especially when Ivan played soccer outside his house, Yao always found a way onto his yard until he wore the Russian's patience thin and then left, with the excuse to eat some rice balls.

At least the Korean one was nicer, albeit stranger. He had jumped on Ivan's back and said, "I claim this back for the great land of Korea!" Ivan had been confused. He was not Korean. He was Russian. His mother said so, and he could prove it. He spoke Russian, had lived in Russia, and had family still here. He also had no recollection of ever going to Korea, nor any desire to.

He knew about the little Japanese boy, and though he and the boy did not get along some days, he had seen Alfred talking to him. The two shared an interest in comic books and video games. He believed his name to be Kiku, Honda Kiku, or Kiku Honda, something like that.

"Hey, Ivan," Alfred said, tugging on Ivan's arm. "Isn't that Yao?" Ivan's head felt stiff with irritation; as he pulled his head further down to hide his face. Just what he needed: the boy he didn't even like, the same one who would be annoying him all night. He hoped the Chinese boy hadn't heard Alfred. He really hoped he hadn't heard.

**His hopes were crushed.**

The Chinese boy had apparently heard the loud American's words and had turned. His face was powdered white, his lips painted red in a bright heart-shape. His eyes were outlined perfectly and his hair was piled on his head and done up with golden tresses and combs. He was dressed in a bright red robe of sorts, with golden silk edges and the inside seeming to be stark white. He even wore jade studs in his ears as he waved to them with an elaborate fan.

He said something to the older woman, Ivan presumed to be his sister, and then turned on his sandaled feet to start towards them. "Ni-hao, Ivan," he said, smiling, but only nodded to Alfred who saluted him back. "Hiya Yao!" Alfred beamed, and Ivan managed a thin smile, as he said, "Privet, Yao, are you going to Francis' party, too?"

Yao nodded, careful of his head decorations. Alfred beamed, "We can walk together!" Ivan felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. He really didn't want to walk with Yao. However, before he could respond and decline the suggestion, Yao smiled and clapped his hands once, and said, "That is a brilliant idea, Alfred."

Ivan felt a part of him want to slap Alfred upside his side for now forcing him to deal with Yao steadily trying to take his hand as he walked by his side. Alfred continued to babble nonsense, from a squirrel he had seen at school that looked suspiciously like an alien, to the pancakes his mother made the other day and then how much he couldn't wait to see how a French party went.

Ivan slapped Yao's hand away from his for the umpteenth time and asked, "So, Alfred, what do you think we should do first when we get there?" Alfred thought for a minute, and then shrugged, "I guess find Francis and Arthur and then do what they're doing."

Ivan nodded, and then quickly frowned when Alfred's head turned. He quickly tore his arm from Yao's hands. "Stop that," he warned. "I don't want you trying to hold my arm. I don't like you that way." Yao's outlined eyes narrowed, "Oh really, is that so?"

Ivan nodded as Alfred said that Francis' house was coming up. "Yes," he replied quietly to Yao. "Now, please, leave me alone." Yao was silent for a minute and then he said, "Alright then."

Yao put a good breathing distance between him and Ivan, and Ivan sighed in relief. Alfred took his sigh as something else. He smiled, "Are you really that tired of walking, Ivan?" the Russian boy smiled sheepishly in defense, "What? I didn't even realize…"

Alfred beamed, "Hey, Ivan, how much do you weigh?" Ivan blinked, and then put his fluffy finger to his lip in thought. He frowned; as he remembered his last weigh in had been a long time ago. So he took a guess. "Um, I should say around maybe sixty pounds, maybe close to eighty." He shrugged, his cheeks dusted. "I am sorry. I have not been weighed in a very long time."

Alfred's face lost its blank look and then he smiled. "That's okay. I'm only like fifty-something. I was going to ask if you wanted to ride my back if you were that tired of walking." Ivan's cheeks dusted further and Yao's kohl-lined eyes narrowed. It would seem that the Asian did not sharing.

Ivan tried to smile through his blush. "Um, why, thank you, Alfred." He managed a giggle. "That's very kind of you." Alfred beamed as he put his hands to his hips. He saluted Ivan sloppily. "That's what heroes are here for, Ivan! I'm ready anytime you are!"

Ivan smiled as he bowed to Alfred, like he had seen his father do to his mother a few times. He tried to remember the words he had heard his father say when he did so. When he thought the words didn't seem to fit, he tried to say something just as pretty. "I am in your debt for your kindness, Alfred, should you ever need me, please know that I will always answer your call."

Yao seemed to growl sharply, as Ivan raised himself from his knees to see Alfred blushing with his face the color of cherries. "U-uh, um, th-thank you, Ivan. That was…" Alfred coughed into a gloved hand to hopefully clear his blush. "That was really sweet of you."

Ivan smiled, and then bent slightly to kiss Alfred's cheek, like he used to do with his friends in Russia. _Before they left him all alone, that is._

Yao huffed, as he pretended to ignore what was going on beside him. Alfred's face reddened further and Ivan pulled away, frowning. "What is wrong? We do that with friends, all the time in Russia." His fluffy ears seemed to flatten against his head, typical of sad bears.

Alfred seemed to relax at that. Good, because he had seen his mother and father do that sometimes. He didn't want to do that with someone unless he really liked them. That was what his mother had told him. To only kiss someone he liked who felt the same way about him. But Ivan said they did that all the time in Russia, so as to not offend his friend, he would make an exception for him.

"O-oh, okay, in Russia, right," Alfred licked his lips, feeling nervous. He looked at Ivan, his face still holding some hurt, and then at his boots. He didn't like seeing his friends hurt and so he did what any hero would do. He tried to stand on his tiptoes to peck Ivan across the lips before he lost his nerve.

Ivan was taken by surprise, at the soft and hasty pressure on his lips. Then he smiled gently when he saw how red Alfred's face was and how he was looking dead ahead and trying to hold his chin up. Ivan giggled. "Thank you, Alfred."

Alfred nodded, "You're welcome, Ivan, just ah…just don't surprise me like that again." Alfred said, and Ivan nodded, "Da, I'll warn you first before I do it again." He would have to warn him, Ivan liked Alfred's skin. It was soft and smooth, and curved gently at the dimples. He didn't mind Alfred's kisses either.

He would warn Alfred before he tried to kiss him next time, he would. So, it was decided by the Russian boy as his little group finally came to Francis' door and they enjoyed the little Halloween. He stayed for the sleepover, having fun talking with Alfred, watching Francis and Arthur bicker over whose costume was better. (Personally, Ivan liked his costume over the elaborate pirate English boy or elegant nobleman Francis.)

But, as he lay under Francis' bed, it was darker there than the corners, he waited a bit to make sure all were asleep before he crawled out from under the bed. He looked to the bed: Francis was hugging his stuffed Eiffel Tower toy, and snoring softly, with Arthur curled into a ball at his side with his own winged mint-colored bunny.

His eyes roved the room for Alfred, and found him on his Marvel sleeping bag, mouth slightly parted in sleep. Sky blue eyes were closed in sleep, little face smoothed of any distress. Alfred giggled in his sleep, making Ivan pause, until he heard the American boy say, "Ivan, that tickles, quit it…"

Ivan smiled, but it wasn't like the smile he wore when he knew he was being watched. He smiled, showing the dark room his full set of teeth that put even the world's best daggers to shame. Pale skin glowed softly as he crawled out quietly to where Alfred lay. Violet eyes gleaming, he bent to steal one more kiss from Alfred when he wasn't looking.

When he pulled away, his eyes flashed, and his smile became close-lipped to seemingly hide how his teeth ached for a taste of crimson. He looked at Alfred, eyes softening, as he thought of how long he had been alone only for his solitude to be repaid in the embodiment of Alfred F. Jones.

He smiled, thinking of centuries where he could hold someone's hand as they watched the snow fall for another winter. Winter wouldn't be so cold now. He would have his mother, his father, his big sister, soon enough his new baby sister and Alfred by his side.

_I am going to keep Alfred forever._

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**-END CHAPTER-**

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Did everyone like this chapter? I didn't mean for it to get so long, it just kept going.

Did anybody else go "Aww" at the image of Ivan/Russia in a polar bear costume? (I did, I admit it, it was so cute.) I wanted to do the actual sleepover scene but this chapter was long enough without it… I'm sorry.)

Did anyone see the foreshadowing I did in this chapter? No? Yes? Have no freaking clue what I'm talking? Any questions? Comments? Leave it in a review and make me have a smile for my day~

~BrooklynBabbii

**Reviewers get to have a tea party with little Russia and Alfred~**

**Ivan: **The tea is as warm as my heart.

Alfred: We have sugar and jam!

**READ AND ****REVIEW****!**


	3. His Happiness

**My Friend, For Eternity**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Children!AU He didn't know he had made friends with the very son of the Devil. All he knew was that he finally had a friend. Finally, a friend that wouldn't leave him, no matter what he did…He finally had someone. RussAme

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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Author Alert: kukuki, minoriY

Story alert/ Favorites: ** Japanese Sinister, Neverwinternightsgirl777, Pioka, Leylani-sama, koriandr831, enzerukage loves hetalia, WhyNotMe, JoyHeart, telemarker, Hywar, Eeze, Cry Benihime, xXNovenusPrimeXx, lheydechaos, In The Mix, Oceanfur**

Reviewer(s)!: **Japanese Sinister, emismpunk, Neverwinternightsgirl777, DanieSora, Animaegan, Ashcola17, anon, enzerukage loves hetalia, MoonlitMelody, telemarker, emismpunk, PurpleLightning12, ChubbyCubby23, kukuki, lafayette722, Oceanfur **

Japanese Sinister: I gave you diabetes from my fict? QAQ, I so sorry…Well, but at least, you like Francis in this. :) I'm glad you think he's the girlish boy ever! XD (Yeah, my stalker is happy~)

emismpunk: I'm glad you liked Ivan's bear costume, and thank you for the compliment.

Neverwinternightsgirl777: If they were more RussAme ficts like this, hun, I would be happy. But there isn't, so I must inspire other authors to do so! :D (And will you stop declaring my future plot, I don't want everyone knowing about that!)

DanieSora: Yay, I got it right. *waving German flag and smiling* I'm glad you like my story, thank you for reviewing!

Animaegan: Cute RussAme, yes, and stop my saying my future plot out loud! DX For the love of Russian "water", I love you guy for reviewing, but stop sneaking into my room and looking at the next chapters before they're posted! XD

Ashcola17: Ivan as a pedo bear? LOL. He did kiss Alfred though. You have a valid point. I love South Korea and I love messing with Yao's head. It's just fun.

anon: Thank you saying so in a review, anonymous person! :D I really appreciate it and I will update again, soon!

enzerukage loves hetalia: I'm glad you enjoyed it! And thank you, someone saw the foreshadowing.

enzerukage loves hetalia(2): *smiling as well* I can't either, it's so…cute! GAH!

MoonlitMelody: Aw, at least you found humor in the line. Poor Arthur, poor adorable, baby Arthur…*sigh* I can wait until he's legal, I promise, I won't turn into a pedophile. (I'm glad you caught that about Francis and his little…fashion. I write it as outrageous for a little kid as can be. I'm not even kidding, it rubs me the wrong way too. He's so little, but the outfit is hot. It's just that it's on a little kid that puts me at unease…And if China knew what he was getting into, he'd get into Russia's pants. How about them apples? XP

I'm glad I caught you by surprise at the ending. You nearly forgot Ivan wasn't demonic…and then BAM! I shove it in your face as a reminder. Is he still cute, now?

telemarker: I'm glad you enjoyed the bear costume and how cute this fict is~ Ivan isn't Ivan without some possessiveness. I love writing him a little kid.

emismpunk: I'm glad you enjoyed Ivan in his bear costume, I had hoped I had done it well~ Thank you for the compliments, I hope this next chapter pleases you as well.

PurpleLightning12: *points to unborn Belarus* This kid has got some skills, not even born yet, and already an awesome spy~ XD

ChubbyCubby23: I shall keep up the awesome work! :D Thank you for reviewing!

kukuki: Ugh, loner…? My hands are starting to hurt. XD Don't wait too long, my brain is unpredictable, it might take you by surprise.

lafayette722: Really, you would? Would you like cream or sugar, cookie or brownie? (I'm glad you liked Ivan's polar bear picture. I based it off a picture my friend sent to me. I couldn't help but draw it.)

Oceanfur: No, that is never is a good sign. But I'm glad you enjoy the story.

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**GAH!**

**I am so sorry this is late! **

***bowing in apology, repeatedly* **

**Please forgive me! D':**

**So, as my only real way of I am sorry— **

**I present to you: **Chapter Three** of "**_My Friend, for Eternity_**"! **

**I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me.**

**I made this one an extra 1k long to appease you guys.**

**I am so sorry, guys, please forgive me! D':**

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**Recommended Listening: **"Ave Maria" by Beyoncé

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**.:Chapter Three:.**

_His Happiness_

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Ivan stared out the window of the classroom, facial expression flat. White flutters beyond his reach behind the thin glass. But Ivan can feel the cold, with his palm pressed against the glass. The cold just jumps at him, as if it was a moth and he was the alluring light. The cold always comes to him. The cold, he knew, will find no one better to come to.

The cold can always come to him. He is its shelter from the other forces and elements. Cold will never be able to find a heart more worthy of its numbing. Ivan had seen so much, witnessed so much, he had done so much. His heart was so cold.

He used to always wish he could be numb. He didn't want to feel sadness anymore. He had to watch, from the safe place in the back of his mind, when he lost control. He had lost too many friends that way. He wanted to be numb, so he could walk into a Church without fear of pain.

He used to always wish he could be numb, so he could feel anything_. If you were numb_, he thought, and _then you could not feel pain and thus cry. If you were numb, you could never cry._..

"Ivan?"

Ivan turned from the window, snapping his gaze with the falling snow and the memories of bloodshed and tears of his past in Russian. Oh yes, he was in America now, wasn't he? No one would know his past here. He could smile, and it wouldn't seem as faux, now…

But, a voice persisted in his mind, it is cold now. I will have to find time to go—

"Ivan, dude!" Alfred said, waving a little hand in his face, "You can't space out! The Christmas play is tonight!" Ivan blinked, as his mind took a minute to remember English. He was in America, now, what did Americans speak again?

_Oh yes,_ he remembered, happily, _English_! Then, mild shock lit across his features. English, he realized, he was in America. His mind finally registered what Alfred was saying to him, blue eyes worried, and small face painted in fear.

"Ivan, Ivan," Alfred kept calling, until Ivan felt himself blink, the darkness retreating back in his vision. He blinked, once more, and then shook his head to clear the remaining evil darkness from his mind. "Are you okay?"

Ivan took a deep breath, and then inwardly winced. Alfred was too close. His words were a bit husky, as he weakly managed, "Da…Yes, I am fine, now. Thank you, Alfred." Alfred seemed discouraged, at that reply. He came closer, making the roof of Ivan's mouth itch. The moment Alfred took his hand; Ivan felt his throat tighten slightly before immediately relaxing.

_Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump…_

_Blood pounding through a small heart, rushing through tender and healthy arteries, he could picture it. Blue blood immediately switching to the color red, upon the meeting of oxygen outside the body came in contact with its surface and cells._

_Sweet and delicious red would flow right into his hands. Its droplets would be eager to meet his mouth, and fill his stomach. The sweet red would be sloshing around him, inside of him, and becoming one with every one of his body's functions._

_Sweet red and all of its warmth, its warmth would keep him entranced with its addictive high. He would feel the warmth all the way down to his toes, feel the warmth behind his eyes, and feel the warmth in his middle._

_He would feel the delicious warmth fill his mind, giving him the ability to act under a seemingly endless wave of power and strength. He would be able to relish in the sweet red's warmth and numbing capabilities. _

_The warm numbing was far more welcome to him than the cold's numb was. He loved to feel the warmth seep into every crevice and nook of his body. To feel it moving through him…it was invigorating. It was… it was empowering…_

**It was—**

Ivan felt himself cock his head, unconsciously, as his head comes down to the small hollow area in Alfred's neck. Alfred said something, but it wasn't until after Ivan has nuzzled the barely visible but plump vein on his neck. "Uh, Ivan," Alfred stammered, "What are you doing…?"

Ivan felt himself snap back to reality, and he hurriedly tried to cover his previous action. He threw his arms around his smaller friend. Pressing a quick kiss to the top of Alfred's hair, as he concentrated on the scent of the younger's hair. Vanilla, he noted, and peaches with some sort of flower?

"Okay…" Alfred murmured, as his cheeks dusted pink and his eyes became curious. "Was that a Russian show of affection or something?" Ivan giggled, picking the smaller and placing him on his feet. He held the other's hands, walking carefully, and making Alfred start to laugh as the two walked around in small circles.

"Did you need something, Alfred?" Ivan asked, as he felt himself start to calm down. He could feel himself gaining back control, as he preoccupied his mind with something else to think up. He would tell his father or his big sister, when he got home, about his hunger pains today.

They would take him out to fix it. He knew they would. They would not let him lose control here. They loved him, didn't they? They said they loved him. So they wouldn't let him go hungry here.

"Oh, um," Alfred stammered. Blue eyes rose to meet violet and Alfred felt whatever he was about to say flee his mind. _He's got really pretty eyes_, Alfred thought, and then he blinked. His face burned, and he looked away. Ivan frowned, eyes showing hurt and worry. Had he done something wrong?

"Um, the show is tonight," Alfred said, and Ivan nodded. Seeing that Alfred hadn't seen him nod, he sighed softly and let the other down on his own feet. "I know," he replied, "Mr. Vargas has me as the lead dancer which means I have to lead the Marshmallow dance…"

Alfred looked up, "You don't want to lead the dance?" His blue eyes were confused, "But you're the only one who can speak Russian…" Ivan smiled gently, "Da, yes, I can. But…" He bit his lip, carefully as to not accidentally bite into it like he did when he was little. "But," he said, "I am afraid I will mess it up for everyone…"

Ivan hurriedly looked away from Alfred, feeling ashamed. He did not deserve to lead anyone. He could pronounce something wrong. The adults will find out and he would get in trouble. He didn't want to make a fool of himself, onstage. Or worse, make his partner look bad because he said the wrong word and led everyone wrong.

He didn't want to disappoint Mr. Vargas; the nice Italian teacher was so nice to him. If he messed up on stage, then the adults would find out. If the adults found out, then he would have to be punished for giving a bad impression of Mr. Vargas' classroom. Then, Mr. Vargas would cry because he was getting yelled at or worse, told to leave.

If Mr. Vargas left, then they would have a mean teacher. When the other kids found out that it was his fault for making Mr. Vargas leave, they would hate him. Or worse, become afraid of him, Ivan did not want people to be afraid of him anymore. That's why he was happy to leave Russia. Everyone had been afraid he would hurt them.

All because of that one incident, that hadn't even been his fault. But he was blamed and hated, he was blamed and feared. He was blamed and left alone…He didn't want to be alone anymore…

Alfred blinked and then laughed. Ivan's head snapped up from the floor. Was Alfred laughing? Was he laughing at him? His violet eyes began to tear up, as a dark coldness began to eat at his heart. He could feel something rising in him, as a fake smile started to curve over his lips.

But then Alfred said, "You're funny, Ivan!" Ivan felt the dark coldness immediately reel back. He blinked, the cruel smile falling and a confused expression coming to his face instead. He was so confused. He was funny? How was he funny? Why had Alfred laughed at him? Or, Ivan thought as he pressed a finger to his lips. Was Alfred laughing with him? Ivan frowned. He hadn't been laughing earlier. He had been looking at the floor.

But his confusion was cleared, when Alfred said, "You're one of the smartest people, I know, Ivan. I don't think you can lead any one from our class wrong." Alfred smiled, showing Ivan the loose tooth he had in his front teeth. It was very loose, Ivan noticed, but not really bleeding much. Ivan decided he could stand it.

Wait, he realized, as his eyes widened. What did Alfred just say? Alfred seemed to know that he had caught Ivan's attention, and continued, "Yeah, you're really smart. You can tie your own shoes, without help, all the time, all by yourself."

Ivan blinked, and then looked down at his boots. The laces were done up, tied perfectly and tightly. He looked at Alfred's shoelaces. His were a bit more sloppy and one actually needed to tied right then. Ivan started to smile, as his cheeks dusted pink. He hadn't even thought that being able to tie your own shoes was something to be proud of. He thought it was something expected.

"And-and," Alfred said, trying to recapture Ivan's attention and succeeding. As soon as violet eyes met blue once more, Alfred continued, "You're taller, so you can always look to see if everything's okay. You help other people, and even though some of them don't say thank you when you do, you would still help them later."

Ivan's face dusted more, as he ducked his head into his scarf. Alfred was being too nice. Ivan knew he was tall. He thought it was more a curse than anything else. He thought it made him different, a target to be bullied and made fun of, not something to be proud of.

He could be easily picked out and confused for someone older, just because he was taller than nearly everyone else his age. He didn't being tall meant he could help other people. But then again, he realized, if he could easily look over to see what was going on, then surely he could help stop things from going bad so it could be corrected.

The last thing Alfred has said was also true about him. He liked helping the other children. He found a steady routine in helping others, usually during the last five minutes of class. Before the bell rang, when Mr. Vargas said the children could talk but still had to be quiet, Ivan saw some children come to him for homework help.

Ivan liked helping the others. He got to know a lot of kids that way. There was the Polish boy, who he said he didn't get the word problems. He said he didn't care whether he had two flowers or thirty flowers, just as long as e had enough flowers to make a nice wreath to wear on his head. Ivan found this attitude of the Polish boy, Felix, cute.

There was the boy, from Lithuania, who was really shy. He had two cousins with his family in America, a baby cousin still at home and an older cousin in another first grade class. Toris, that was his name, sometimes came to Ivan for help with remembering the names of the states and other countries.

He couldn't spell very well in English, as he kept mixing letters from his old country with the English alphabet. He also had a tendency to cry, when he did something wrong. Thus leading Ivan to give him a hug before they start and afterwards. Toris often looked better after the hugs, unless Ivan squeezed too hard and then he seemed scared.

There was Greek boy, Heracles, who was always asleep during lessons. Ivan didn't mind filling him in on what he missed. He got to play with one of the cats that followed Heracles around, so he didn't mind too much. Plus, Heracles caught onto things pretty quickly and he shared those little green "grape" things with him. Ivan liked grapes.

And there was Alfred…Ivan liked helping Alfred best. Alfred had trouble with homophones, like flower and flour, and there his fear of math. He did well in science, but he lacked some understanding in social studies. He had once asked Ivan where Russia was…while pointing to a map of the United States. It had taken some explaining to the other that Russia would not be shown on the American map. When asked why, Ivan told him Russia was on the other side of the world.

Alfred then asked if the other side of the world was like a parallel universe, like in the universe. This somehow brought Arthur into the conversation, Francis not too far behind. Arthur argued that England wasn't on the American map, and that it was an island. Alfred asked if England was bigger than Russia, and England pouted and said it wasn't.

Then Francis brought over a globe and finally showed Alfred Europe and the upper part where Russia was located. Arthur pointed to England, to London, specifically, and said, "I was born there." Francis pointed to Paris, in France, and said, "My mother and father are from that French city."

While Arthur rolled his eyes and started to say that Paris was just like any other capital, Alfred asked Ivan where he had lived in Russia. Ivan had taken a moment to locate his city, before pointing to Moscow and saying, "His mother was born there."

But then he pointed to a city in Siberia and said, "But I was born there, before we moved to St. Petersburg." Francis had beaten Alfred to question of "Why?" Ivan had simply said, "We couldn't live there anymore." He didn't say why they couldn't live there, but the others didn't press and simply let it be.

"Ivan?" Said Russian boy snapped from his mind. He had to get rid of his hunger soon. He was spacing out, and that was not a good thing. If he spaced out completely, then there was nothing to stop his subconscious from satisfying his hunger on anyone he didn't want to hurt.

Ivan said, albeit some of his accent coming in, "Yes, Alfred?" He looked to see Alfred by the cubbies, raising a brow. "Um, it's time to go home. I was trying to ask you if you wanted to come over before the show."

Ivan's face didn't change as he took his coat from off the nearby hangers. "Nyet, no," he quickly translated. "I have to do something before the show tonight." Alfred's face seemed to sadden, before he cheered himself up before Ivan saw him.

Alfred turned from gathering his things, reading a random stray paper. He frowned, crumbled the paper and shrugging his uncle's bomber jacket on. He tried to shoot the paper into the trash basket, but Ivan moved and the paper ball bounced off his head and hit Francis square in the face.

Naturally, the French boy made it seem dramatic, as he cried out and grabbed at his face and fell to his knees. Arthur had seen the action, from his place beside the French boy, and proceeded to laugh. "You got hit with a paper ball!" He laughed, "And you're crying over it! What a sorry excuse for a—"

His words were cut off, as Francis tripped him and made the English boy fall on his behind. Unfortunately, Francis hadn't looked behind Arthur to see that there was a nearby table, right where Arthur's head could easily hit…until that is said English boy started crying from a bump to the head.

Alfred and Ivan were running over in an instant, all the while Francis kept murmuring apologies. Alfred was patting the English boy's hand, Ivan helping him off the floor, and Francis kissing freckled cheeks until the other finally quit crying.

Luckily, none of the other children had seen. Or at least, come over and gotten Mr. Vargas. That would have been very bad.

"Are you alright, mon cher?" Francis asked. Arthur sniffled, before snapping, "I-I should punch you for that! That really hurt!" Francis looked ready to cry, Alfred noticed as Francis whimpered, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

The French boy latched onto the English boy, sobbing apologizes. "I'm sorry, je m'excuse, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Arthur's face burned red, as he looked down at his hands instead of the French boy sobbing on his arm. "F-fine, frog…" His mind stammered on a way to get the French to smile again. He didn't like seeing the usually flamboyant and cheerful blonde boy crying.

So, he said, "Get off me, frog! I told you I don't like you giving me your stupid French hugs!" Francis' nose wrinkled, and he turned his head slowly as if his neck wasn't supposed to turn. Alfred inched behind Ivan, the Russian who was watching the exchange with amusement.

"What did you say…about French hugs?" Francis said, smiling cruelly. Arthur swallowed his fear and stuck out his chin, "They're stupid!" Arthur smirked, and tried to dig further, seeing his French friend come out of his sadness with the help of anger. "S-T-O-!"

He was cut short as Francis cried, "You spelled stupid wrong, stupid! There's a U!" Thus the Francis and Arthur began arguing over spelling. Alfred blinked, and then his face became confused, "You guys are both stupid…"

Both the French and English boys turned around at the same time, making Alfred duck behind Ivan with a small yelp, as they both snapped, in unison, "You're stupid!" Ivan giggled, "You all are funny to me…" He clapped his hands, applauding his friends' weird antics.

Both Francis and Arthur looked at him, before Arthur said, "I do believe you're insane…" Ivan smiled, holding his hands behind him, "I have been called that, da, yes." Francis said something, before Arthur could open his mouth, "I'm not surprised. You need French culture to dispel the insanity that—

"Shut up with your stupid soap opera," Arthur interrupted, "Why are you such a wanker?" Francis laughed, as he hopped in Arthur's lap and ruffled his hair. "This isn't a soap opera, mon cher," and he whispered into Arthur's ear. He whispered lowly, so softly that Alfred couldn't hear though Ivan heard him clearly say, "But I promise to only wank for you~"

The French boy laughed, at Arthur's burning red horrified face. Ivan took it upon himself to lead Alfred away, trying to decipher before he answered any one of Alfred's many hundreds of questions as they left Francis and Arthur alone.

A moment later, Arthur got his voice back, "You're disgusting!" A moment later, he said, "Don't you _dare_ touch me with your dirty hands! Not after that comment you just made, never!"

Ivan's eyes were wide, and he was barely hiding his blush behind his scarf. He wished he hadn't been able to hear that comment. He chanced a look back to see Francis saying something else in Arthur's ear, smiling. Ivan covered his ears. He didn't want to hear that comment.

"Um, Ivan?" Alfred asked, as he took Ivan's hand.

The Russian boy looked down on his American friend, "Da, yes?" He saw Alfred smile. Ivan caught another peek at Alfred's loose tooth. "You'll be at the show, tonight, right?" he asked, and Ivan nodded, smiling back. He would not disappoint Alfred. He could not disappoint Alfred. That was not an option.

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**Blood Walk**

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"Ivan, wipe your mouth," Katyusha reprimanded her little brother. When he looked up at her with black eyes and a red-rimmed mouth, she sighed and took a napkin from her breast pocket. She hurriedly wiped Ivan's mouth, and then took his hand and tried to look normal as they walked down the street.

Trying to appear normal, they walked away from the mutilated thing that used to be a living person. Ivan had been really hungry, she realized, as she looked up and took a corner. A few men stared at her chest, then her face before seeing the small boy at her hip. One man murmured, "No wonder she got a kid…"

Not even a minute after the words left his mouth, Ivan felt something in him twitch. The next thing he knew, the very same man who had said something about his big sister had walked into a pole and had stopped moving immediately.

Ivan blinked, as he tried to think through the sweet red's high. Things were going too slow for his liking, and he was acting without thinking again, which meant he had taken too much. But the sweet red had been so good. That man had been fun to eat. Even if he did struggle too much, Ivan thought, giggling.

The sweet red made things much easier to handle, he thought, as his big sister walked him back to the school in his costume.

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**Showtime**

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By the time Ivan arrived at the school, the sweet red's high had come down from the more dangerous levels and he was thinking more clearly. He quickly sought through the crowds of people for his classroom to find Mr. Vargas, his big sister excusing herself while she tried to keep up with his brisk steps.

"Ivan~" Said Russian boy smiled up to his teacher, the Italian skipped over and hugged the tall first grader to his chest, "Ve~ yay! You're here, you're here, we can get you backstage now~" Ivan smiled, as he nodded, not yet trusting his voice. Then, he remembered his big sister and saw her being led to the auditorium.

He shrugged, not thinking much of it. She wasn't crying or being hurt, so he assumed she was alright for now. He was put down by Mr. Vargas, and then led to the curtained side of the stage. He immediately caught the attention of everyone backstage.

He was certainly worth the attention. On his head, Ivan wore a black furry hat that was common in Russia. It proudly bore a single gold feather sewn into the fur. Besides his ever present scarf, he wore a cream-colored white coat, over a black shirt and darker pants. A cornflower blue sash ran from his shoulder, diagonally to his hip where, attached to a golden chain, was a black baton.

Golden tresses, which gleamed in the light, sat on his shoulders and on his coat were a multitude of red, white, and golden badges. As Ivan walked, the golden chains on his black boots jingled, and caught the sight. There were murmurs of awe throughout the children and teachers alike.

Ivan basked in the attention, as he neared his friends. He waved a black gloved hand, "Privet, comrades." He immediately took notice of how, even though Arthur and Francis were wearing all white, Alfred was the only one besides Ivan who wasn't.

Alfred wore a dark green jacket; similar to Ivan's cream one, but instead of a sash, he wore a blood red thick belt over his waist. His tresses were gold, as well, but they didn't catch the light as often as Ivan's did. His badges were golden, red and black. His pants were a dark brown and tucked into black boots. He had on a black beret. At his hip, sat a black holster and Ivan could see a black baton.

"Cool outfit, dude!" Alfred shouted, fisting his hands at his hips, grinning. Arthur smiled, nodding, while Francis walked over and said, "I think somebody has been taking an interest in French fashion, no?" Ivan giggled, "No, I didn't go to France. My father gave this to me a long time ago. It fits better now."

Arthur spoke up, "Really?" His face dusted slightly and then he meekly pointed to Ivan's side. "May I…?" Ivan smiled, nodding, "Go ahead. I do not mind, Arthur." The English boy smiled and eagerly went to Ivan's side, to look over the Russian boy's outfit like Francis. Looking over it happily, and whispering, "It's so pretty…"

Ivan smiled, and he was right about to ask Alfred his opinion, when Mr. Vargas appeared to say, "Alright, class! Let's put on our show! On with the Marshmallow Dance~" The class cheered, and Ivan stood tall. He was ready to impress everyone and put on a show like the real Russian dancers did.

"Are you ready, Ivan and Alfred?" Mr. Vargas said, and Ivan nodded happily. Before frowning and turning to Alfred, who mouthed, "Surprise!" Ivan smiled, giggling. That Alfred was his partner would explain why he wasn't dressed in all white like the other kids in their classroom.

Both boys walked to the front, as Mr. Vargas formed them into a triangle formation. Ivan and Alfred at the far sides, but a single boy in the front and a pair behind him, and three children behind them until the last children were placed. Then, Mr. Vargas clapped his hands and said, "Good luck to you all!"

A voice made a snarky remark, "That'd get you arrested in Ireland," but before Mr. Vargas' mind had even registered he had insulted, someone shushed the one who spoke. Everyone was excited. Ivan took a deep breath for courage, as he saw Alfred do across the room, as someone started the music.

The other children lay on their knees, as if kneeling before someone. Ivan opened the act, "_Ka~_," bowed on a knee, as he slowly raised his head. His violet eyes slowly met the crowd, as his hand went to his baton, but didn't reveal it. He continued, "_Ka-linka, ka-ka-linka, ka-ka linka moya_!"

Alfred spoke up, his voice intertwining with Alfred's, "_V sadu yagoda malinka, malinka moya_!" Both boys rose to their feet, as the music sped up, their voices still in-sync, "_Kalinka, kalinka, kalinka moya_!" Alfred and Ivan suddenly thrust out their batons, the music finally starting up, as they said, "_V sadu yagoda malinka, malinka moya!_"

The rest of the class rose quickly, singing, "_Kalinka, kalinka, kalinka moya!_" Soon, Ivan was leading them all. His Russian accent was playing well with Alfred's, surprisingly. Ivan twirled his baton, whereas, at the same time, Alfred tossed his in the air and caught it effortlessly.

The class was dancing in a half circle, around their leaders, giving the audience a view of them as well as their leaders. Ivan walked forward, Alfred stomped backwards, singing with the class. Their different voices seemed to melt together into one single voice.

Ivan threw out one arm, Alfred threw his own. Their hands met and fingers intertwined, and they running forward to stop short and then point to the class behind them, singing, "_Kalinka, kalinka, kalinka moya_!" The class was clapping, and singing, kicking their feet in their half circle. The other children's arms were thrown over each shoulder, as Alfred and Ivan twirled and played with their batons.

When the lyrics were in Russian, Ivan was mainly singing, and he held the audience's main attention, performing a basic version of the Cossack dance in the middle of the circle, while Alfred danced on the outside. As the music drifted to English, Alfred became the sole singer, in the half circle, while Ivan was on the outside, and he winked to the crowd as he jumped back out to join Ivan at his side.

The class was singing, Alfred and Ivan were singing and dancing. At some point in time, someone had started a rhythmic clap. Now, this very clap was being done in unison in the audience. The audience was pleased; the class was glowing with mirth. Mr. Vargas was dancing to himself with Mr. Väinämöinen, behind the curtain and out of the audience's view.

To Alfred, it was like a dream. He was leading not just one person; he was leading a lot of them. He was leading a number he could count to. He was having so much fun, and then he was dancing with Ivan. He could see the Russian boy out of the corner of his eyes and he could see the other boy was enjoying himself.

Alfred had always liked to sing. People told him he was good, but the icing on the cake was when he was being told that he could lead in the show. This felt like a sign to Alfred that he should keep singing.

To Ivan, it was like a rush of vigor in each step and a warm feeling in his chest. The song was one of Russia's own folk music. Ivan didn't know how Mr. Vargas had found it. But he didn't care; so much as he was enjoying it. He was having so much fun.

Everyone was having so much fun, with a song from his own country. Ivan felt special in a way. Add on to his joy, that Alfred was his partner in leading the class and doing his part excellently, and one could honestly say he was overflowing with happiness.

All too soon, the song began to die down, and Alfred and Ivan had to lead the class back to their submission stands. The half circle began to merge inwards, and then became a long line of children. They were all singing and kicking out their feet. Smiling and laughing in their all white attire. Ivan and Alfred walked to the front, and then clapped their batons to the floor, before calling out, "_Kalinka, kalinka, kalinka moya!_"

They abruptly brought their heads down, as the class kneeled before the audience. The music stopped, and almost immediately after, the audience applauded. More than half stood in ovation. The class raised their heads, and smiled. Ivan was giggling; Alfred was waving to people in the crowd.

Mr. Vargas and appeared from behind the curtains, smiling. He waved at the crowd, "Ve~ Thank you for coming to our homeroom's first cultural show! We hope you had a good time!" The audience clapped harder, and louder, as if trying to say that they had more than enjoyed the performance.

Soon, the class was led offstage to be taken, in a single file, to the classroom. After a small wait, kids were picked up. Francis' parents came through, dressed like they were going to a rich opera, not a school performance.

"Mon cher," Mrs. Bonnefoy called out as she opened her arms and bent to take her son. "You were wonderful! You have the spirit of Paris in you!" Her golden ringlets framed her oval face, as she kissed her son's face over and over. Mr. Bonnefoy chuckled, kissing his son's head. "Your mother is right; you were made for attention and to be seen by the world." Francis giggled, replying back in French, "I know, I know, I have you two to thank for it!" His parents beamed, as his mother carried him out in her arms.

After a couple more parents and families, came Arthur's brothers and his parents. Arthur's oldest brother called, "Aye! Where is my lil superstar of a brother?" Arthur's head rose and he ran to his family. He was immediately picked up by the eldest and put on his shoulders. Laughing, as his family applauded his performance.

"My dear boy," his mother said, "the very Queen should have been able to seen you on that stage." His mother grinned, and Ivan saw where Arthur got his smile from. "She would have been applauding with the best of us, and having you written down as her own personal actor!" Arthur grinned back, laughing, "I do believe she would have been proud, to say the least."

His family laughed and joked for a while, one of Arthur's brothers saying that he would dance in Parliament if the Queen told him to. Soon, they left, taking Arthur with them. After another few families, Ivan's family came through the door.

His father stood proud, "Ivan Alexei Bragniski." Ivan stood tall, puffing out his chest at his father. His father's cold grey eyes looked down at him, before the large man swooped up and stole his son off his feet, laughing heartily. "That, my boy," he said, "is how a true Russian shows his love for his Mother!"

Ivan giggled, as Katyusha beamed, "You were amazing, Ivan! You even got the Cossack dance right, at your age! Not that I thought you wouldn't get it anyways!" He smiled at his big sister to show he understood. His mother, holding her big belly, smiled warmly at him. "You really are talented, my little one," she said in Russian. Ivan replied, "You really think so?"

His father held his son on his hip, easily managing his son's weight with his strength, "We know so, Ivan. Do not ever believe anything else. We love you."

Ivan smiled, he didn't hear his father—nicknamed "General Winter" for being born on the start of winter and that being his favorite season— rarely say that he loved him. He was more of an action person, he would show he loved you, but he seldom said it out loud. That his father had said it, to him, after his performance, made him feel even more special.

But right as Ivan's family was about to leave, Ivan looked back to see Alfred still waiting on his family. The Russian boy caught the look of sadness on the little American's face. He didn't know it, but Alfred's parents had tried to get off work for this day to see him. But both of their bosses argued that they couldn't.

Thus, Alfred had had to stay afterschool, and then wait after the show to get picked up. He didn't think anyone would invite him to their home, until that is, Ivan stopped his family and called out, "Alfred?"

Alfred looked up from the floor, still in his costume and holding his backpack with his school clothes and books inside. Ivan didn't even hesitate, "Alfred, would you like to come home with us?" Alfred's face brightened, "Can I?"

Ivan suddenly remembered his parents, and his mother giggled. His father was smiling, and Katyusha was said, "I can make more food." Ivan turned to his parents, face pleading, as Alfred came closer. His mother smiled, "It is fine with me, dear. Winter?" She asked, with a raise of her brow. Ivan's father laughed, "I like the little American. He has spunk."

Ivan smiled, as he saw his father pick up Alfred and say in a fake expression of tiredness, "Dear Motherland, you two weigh more than my car!" Ivan giggled and Alfred laughed. Katyusha giggled, as she mentally ran in her mind of what to prepare for dinner with their new dinner member.

Ivan's mother quickly asked her eldest daughter for her phone to tell Alfred's parents, while Alfred and Ivan played with the Russian man's mustache and nose while he made funny faces. Ivan was so happy. He had proven himself in the show, his family was proud of him, and he got to have his best friend over for dinner to celebrate.

He was so happy, so happy. As Ivan looked at Alfred sitting between him and his sister in the car, on the way home, he couldn't help but think how happy Alfred had made him since he had entered his life.

_I'll be happy forever, with him by my side._

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**-END CHAPTER-**

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So? Did this chapter make up for the near severely long wait? I'm sorry but the song gave me difficulty to write a first-grade dance to… (Damn those red lines… DX) In the end, I said "Fuck it" and made up the best dance scene I could. ((For anyone who cares, the song used is: "Kalinka" by Yamboo. :3))

How did everyone like the introduction of parents/family in this chapter? (I FAIL at Scotland's accent. *cries in corner* I am German, I haven't even been to Scotland...)

Did everyone like the show scene anyways? I'm sorry it's not exactly first grade worthy…T^T (did anyone start to crack up at seeing Italy and Finland dancing together? I did, actually. I have no idea why, just the image actually. Also, I agree with Poland earlier. Why the fuck would I have that shit anyways? Who needs apples, when you can have PASTA? :P)

XDD

As I said, I made this chapter nearly like 7k words as a half-assed way of apologizing for not updating. Since like June 5th? I am so sorry! DX I was going to update a few days before Father's Day, but some things came up concerning my health. (Damn seizures, leave me alone, for fucking once!) Then, I was stuck in bed, doped out of my mind...)

Anyways, off the shit that I call my life-Any questions? Comments? Leave it in a review and make me have a smile for my day~

~BrooklynBabbii

**Reviewers get to hug little Ivan and Alfred~**

**Ivan: **Hugs for Russia?

**READ AND ****REVIEW****!**


	4. To Please

**My Friend, For Eternity**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Children!AU He didn't know he had made friends with the very son of the Devil. All he knew was that he finally had a friend. Finally, a friend that wouldn't leave him, no matter what he did…He finally had someone. RussAme

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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Author Alert: knyghtstar, CakesandPiesCakesandPies (Sounds delicious)

Story alert/ Favorites: **Night13, Yogogirl13, Russia - Ivan Braginsky, CluelessHuman, shadowwolf64, baka12, PastaKolCheeseburger-San, koPieKing, Shadow-the-Knight, knyghtstar, Rivermallow, knyghtstar, Kate Arduenna**

Reviewer(s)!: ** Neverwinternightsgirl777, Animaegan, JoyHeart, Oceanfur, Japanese Sinister, Leylani-sama, ChubbyCubby23, MoonlitMelody, Ashcola17, kukuki, lafayette722**

Neverwinternightsgirl777: Yes, I am getting better. Thank Gott, I could not stay in bed any longer. Anyways, I'm glad you found the last chapter's dance scene cute! I really tried! Trust me, missing the show was the last thing they wanted to do. But at least, Ivan took him in. (You are forgiven. ) I'll update when I can, and I'll try to avoid any extra stress!

Animaegan: I'm glad you liked General Winter in this portrayal! I wanted to make him somewhat of a nice guy. He just has a dark background. *hugs* Thank you for throwing sticks at the seizures! My hero! XD

Russia - Ivan Braginsky: Russia…you're not going to kill me for writing this? Are you…? Please don't! (LOL, I'm glad you love this fict! I'm glad you love Alfred and Ivan in this, as well!)

JoyHeart: Thank you for saying so. I'm trying to make them more childlike, but somehow it gets twisted in my head going onto paper. Hm, I'll get it right eventually. Thank you for pointing it out and saying so nicely! Constructive criticism is always treasured.

Oceanfur: Yes, I'm showing demonic elements in your face. Ivan is not the cute little boy you all want to take home and cuddle. I'm glad you liked my dance scene!

Japanese Sinister: Thank you for forgiving me. *bowing* I'm glad you liked the dance scene. I'm sure little Ivan would at least cuddle with you before he brutally murders you. I'm glad you liked General Winter in this and the FrUk. I'm experimenting. I'm glad I satisfied the stalker. *nods*

Leylani-sama: Don't squeeze too hard, hun. He might bit you. Yes, they're demons, with GW as the Devil. Appearances are deceiving, hun. Look at Ivan, for a prime example. Yes, he will bite Alfred but not the way you're thinking. Natalya will come soon, I promise. I'm glad you like the chibi FrUK. Russia accepts your love and sends back his own! ;3

CluelessHuman: ._. LOL, that's all I can say…

ChubbyCubby23: I'm glad you enjoyed it! Thank you for the compliments! Ugh, I don't think Scottish accents are going to be my friend. I suck at Swedish accents. I'm German; I haven't even been to Scotland, let alone Sweden. Though I won't mind going to either for a visit. I want a kilt and a hug from a sheep and a real Scotsman. (I can do the profanity part, though! "Aboot?")

MoonlitMelody: *facepalm* You guys are doomed. I'm surprised Ivan hasn't taken your minds yet…or maybe he has. You know that song, too? I have it on my iPod! Thank you for wishing me luck with my health! :3

Ashcola17: Yes, Russian Ivan. Nsidohg! Don't explode! Somebody else has to clean that up! And no, you can't have him. Alfred has rights. *holds up paper* He signed ! Sweets! Mm-mm! :D

kukuki: I'm glad you liked it! Thank you for the compliment!

lafayette722: *gives you tea and cookie* I'm glad you liked the show! I'm pretty sure if any of Ivan's fans had been there, he would have been kidnapped…and then he would come back with another blood high from willing fangirls.

PastaKolCheeseburger-San: One, that is an epic username. I applaud you. *claps genius* Two, I'm gald you like the fluff and humor. Chibi FrUK is fun to write, if a bit difficult. If you thought it was disturbing, imagine how Arthur felt…yeah. Yes, chibi-demon Ivan does sound legit! :D Thank you for wishing me well on my health, I'm glad you like my story. P.S if you turn into Poland, I will jump you. No warnings or exceptions.

Shadow-the-Knight: *holds up copy* You want one? I want a hug for it. I hope this update is soon enough for you.

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**Hello, didn't see you, there. Denmark is awesome!**

**I love running, and Denmark is like the perfect place to run around for me.**

**I'm sorry, I was gone for such a time. I was having too much fun…**

**So, as my only real way — **

**I present to you: **Chapter Four** of "**_My Friend, for Eternity_**"! **

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**.:Chapter Four:.**

_To Please_

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Alfred hummed to himself, busying himself with his toy plane. He was going to see his little brother, today, since his parents had finally gotten a day off from working so hard. Not only that, but his parents had let him bring Ivan along. Well, Ivan was actually still on the phone with his parents right now.

"Can I, mother?" Ivan pleaded, as his pale fingers fingered with the end of his long scarf. "Please? It's just a little visit? I really want to see the little baby…" Violet eyes brightened, as his mother said something on the other line. Then, Ivan wrinkled his nose, as he whined, "Mother, I'm a big kid, I shouldn't have to say it…"

His mother said something on the line, and what she said, made Ivan's brows rise in disbelief. "No! I'll say it! I promise! I really want to go! I'll be good, I promise! Please, pretty please, mother!"

She said something else, as Alfred came down the hall. He was smiling and shrugging his little backpack full of toys and books to read. He was ready to visit Mattie.

It was going to be a lot of fun. They could read Mattie some stories, and teach him some of the stuff they were learning in school. He thought he was being an awesome big brother, by teaching Mattie stuff before the other Kindergartens. Mattie was going to be really smart, because of him, and he was going to learn how to tie his shoes all by himself.

"Yes, mother," Alfred heard Ivan say into the phone. There was a small moment of hesitation, as he mumbled something in Russian, his face warming a bit. His mother decided to tease him, on the other end of the line, and Ivan huffed. "I am a big kid, mother; I can be loud…when I want to be…"

In response, his mother said something that made Ivan's chin lift, as he said, "Oh yeah? I can do better than them, anyways! I can say it in three languages! All three of them, mother, Slavic, Russian and English!" He boasted, and then he huffed as his mother replied with something else. To which, he replied, "I will say it! I will say it in all three just to prove I'm a big kid!"

Ivan took a deep breath, and then said something in the first language, Slavic coming forth fluently off his tongue. It sounded so natural, and the accent it came with just added a certain feel to the words themselves.

Next to come forth from Ivan was Russian, which Ivan found easier to say since it had been a long time since he had heard anyone speak Slavic besides his house. He spoke this language, while he was leaning up on his tiptoes to feel taller, as if the thought gave him more courage.

Finally, came English and Alfred finally gained an understanding of what Ivan had been saying all along. "I love you, mother," Ivan said, proudly. "See? I told you I could do it! I said it in all three languages." He appeared proud of himself, and the voice on the other end seemed to say something else that made Ivan giggle. Ivan replied back in Russian, before he hung up.

He turned to see Alfred, behind him, and smiled. "My mother says I can go. I just have to behave myself." Alfred cheered, throwing his hands in the air. "Yay!" He shouted, "Mommy, Ivan said his mom said he can go!"

Mrs. Jones called back, "Alright, thanks Al! Let your father find his keys, and we can go!" Ivan blinked, and said, "The patriot keys are on the counter, Mr. Jones!"

A pause, and then Mr. Jones called back, "Thanks, little guy!" Within a few minutes, the house was locked up and the Jones and little Ivan were in the car. Ivan kicked his feet lightly, humming a tune he had remembered his father singing at his house. As the car pulled from the drive, he thought he saw his sister out of the corner of his eyes in the shadows.

He waved out the windows, and saw her wave back, and then to pause to wipe her eyes. Alfred looked over, and asked, "Who are you waving to?"

Ivan turned to say something, and point to his sister, but when he looked back, he said, "Oh, well, they're gone now. It doesn't matter." Alfred didn't think much of it, and then smiled as he said, "What should we do first when we visit Mattie?"

Ivan thought for a minute, his finger pressed to his lip, "I don't know, maybe cook him a nice meal?" Alfred blinked, and even Mr. Jones said, "What?"

Ivan frowned, "That is not an option?" Mrs. Jones turned in her seat, she smiled, her violet eyes bright. "Well, no, dear. The hospitals won't let us use their kitchen to cook Mathew a meal." Ivan nodded, and then Alfred laughed. "If they did, we should cook him up a hamburger. Then, he would get better right away!

Mr. Jones grinned, as he said, "With extra pickles, fries and a diet soda like a real American!" Ivan paled, gulping silently. He did not care much for American fast food, and the one time he had tried it, he found his stomach disagreed with its taste. When, no one was looking, he drank a whole vial of Russian "water", just to get the taste out of his mouth. Then, he went home. He felt better, when he ate the food there.

Ivan saw Mrs. Jones had mirrored his reaction to Alfred and Mr. Jones agreement on fast food. Both he and Mrs. Jones were pale, and neither looked really ecstatic about the idea of eating the fried fast food. Had she not liked the taste as well?

Ivan couldn't help, but give her a few points for her, in his mind for putting up with her husband and son's strange favorite foods. At least, she tried to make up for it by making excellent pancakes.

Ivan liked staying over Alfred's house, if besides the fact he could be with Alfred; he could have pancakes for breakfast. Even if, he thought he caught everyone looking at him strangely when he asked for jam and sour cream.

The drive to the hospital was fun, for Ivan. He got to joke and talk with Alfred, and even teach him a bit of Russian to say to Mattie. It was mostly things, he would tell his big sister like "You look very nice today", "Can I have a hug?" and "Please, don't cry."

But, as Ivan saw Mr. and Mrs. Jones lead the way to the Mattie's room, he couldn't help but feel nervous. What if he accidentally woke up Mattie, and scared him by being in the room? Would Alfred be mad at him? Ivan didn't want the other boy to be mad at him.

The visit started off, well enough, but Ivan felt somewhat uncomfortable as he watched the Jones family talk of memories to the little sleeping boy with all of these wires and tubes in his arms. He felt…left out. Mr. Jones was telling a story of some day at a water park, with Alfred's Uncle Fred, and they were all smiling. But he couldn't help but not share their enthusiasm. He didn't have that memory…

When the elder Jones left to talk with Mattie's doctor, it was only Alfred and him in the room. He instantly felt better, as he saw Alfred duck down to grab his backpack and begin their plans to entertain the sleeping boy. At first, they read a book about Winnie the Pooh that Ivan found looked strangely familiar to the Russian one he knew better.

It continued well, in Ivan's opinion. They played a few games, in which Ivan got to know of a few more things to look for when his baby sister was finally born and he wanted to get her a present. He especially liked the patty-cake game, even if he thought it was a little unfair that Mattie couldn't wake up to join in. He thought it was a fun game.

Alfred told Mattie a few jokes, some which Ivan didn't understand and Alfred had to explain, but the Russian still didn't think made much sense. They also read a few more stories. But, it was during one story that Ivan decided to take a chance and try to hold Mattie's hand. At first, it was nothing. He didn't think of it, really. It was simply him holding Mattie's hand.

Nothing could go wrong, right? Wrong. Ivan had tried to touch Mattie's hand, and just as he did so, Mattie's calm face twitched. Alfred didn't notice, and Ivan accidentally took it as a sign of a possible nightmare, and tried to hold the little boy's hand. He hadn't known, that he was supposed to touch the sleeping dead.

But Ivan soon that the longer, he held Mattie's hand and tried to shift his hair from his eyes, he started to whimper. Then, the little boy began to cry. This scared the both of them. Mattie had just been sleeping, and now he was crying. The little boy, who had been so silent before, had started crying.

Eventually, after he thought he had enough of a disaster, Ivan pulled his hand away. Ivan dove for the corner of the room, afraid. While Ivan apologized in Russian, repeatedly, feeling as though he had done something wrong, Alfred tried to make his little brother stop crying. He also tried to make his best friend from crying, but it seemed both children were intent on crying. While Ivan cried and kept saying he was sorry, Mattie kept crying about the cold.

Then, Mattie opened his eyes. After seemingly long months of doing nothing but sleeping after the awful accident, Mathew William Jones opened his eyes. The first thing he said was "Alfie?" The next was if they could play outside.

Alfred hadn't known the full extent of the situation then. But when a nurse came by to ask if everything was alright and found Ivan in a corner, hurriedly wiping his face, while Alfred was hugging a small boy previously in a coma, it was safe to say she freaked out.

The nurse ran back out of the room, calling out for Alfred and Mathew's parents. She spoke too fast, but the words, "awake" and "boys hugging and laughing" had the Jones in more than a hurry to the room. By the time, they had arrived there, nearly out of breath; they saw one of the best picture perfect sights of their lives.

Mattie had Alfred's juice box, sipping it quietly, and smiling in between Ivan and Alfred. Ivan, Alfred, and the little Mattie were reading a book Alfred had checked out the library. The nurse began excusing herself, calling out for a doctor to take Mattie's readings and levels.

Mrs. Jones took a hesitant step forward, while Mr. Jones stood at the door, dumbfounded. "I-is that my baby bear?" She whispered, and Mattie immediately looked up. Alfred and Ivan looked up as well. Mattie just smiled, and Mrs. Jones thought and felt as if an Angel had shone from within that little smile. "Hi mommy…"

Mrs. Jones burst into tears, and hugged all three of them, tightly. Ivan had no idea why he was in the hug, but he said nothing. Although, he was a little uncomfortable what with how tightly he was being held. Alfred was laughing, saying something about how their mother smelled like pancakes already. Mattie just smiled, and said nothing.

Ivan felt another pair of arms wrap around them all, and saw an older Alfred looking down on them all. Mr. Jones smiled, "After all this time, thank God, Mattie…" The hug intensified, until Mattie said he was confused as to where he was. Surprisingly, Ivan found, Alfred's little brother was very soft spoken. He didn't talk much.

He also wasn't as scared as Alfred at needles. Ivan saw Mattie sit still, while the doctor did a few quick things to him. Ivan could feel Alfred hiding behind him and muttering how needles were as evil as dentists. Ivan didn't understand the dentist comment. The Russian remembered that his dentist loved him.

As the day wore on, Ivan got to play more games with Alfred and Mattie. But this time, Mattie was actively participating…even if, he had to be explained the rules more than once. Mr. and Mrs. Jones watched them quietly, only saying something every once and a while. But then the doctor came back to speak with them, and they had to go in the hall.

Their voices were soft, but he could still make out the words "unexplained" and "suspicious". Ivan tuned out their words after that. There was nothing wrong with Mattie. He was a cute, little boy who had just woken up after sleeping a long time. Alfred didn't seem bothered by it, and so, Ivan tried not to worry about how much his presence may or may not have aided in the fact that Mattie woke up at all. If it was his fault, he was going to get scolded.

But, as the Russian boy watched the two boys play together and laugh, watch how their parents just smile and watch quietly…Somehow Ivan didn't think he would mind his scolding, for when he had to tell his parents what happened, as much as he thought he would. The sight of those happy faces, just for one little boy to open his eyes and play like he used to, made him think a hundred scolding were worth it.

_Especially_, he thought, _if it made Alfred happy_. Ivan knew he would do anything to make Alfred happy.

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**A Few Months Time**

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"I'm telling you for the last time," Arthur snapped at Francis. "The fairies are real!" The English boy was currently defending yet another one of his imaginary friends. Today, it was a fairy that Arthur said that Francis had nearly squashed when he had been trying to play with the colored blocks.

The French boy stared at him, for a whole minute, and then twirled a lock of his hair around his finger. His blue eyes met emerald ones, and then he smiled. "You're really cute, even if you are weird." Francis giggled, putting down another block. An 'A' block was moved behind an 'R', and then Francis frowned.

"You…you…you," Arthur sputtered, trying to think up a decent name. He pouted, as he crossed his little arms over his chest. He fiddled with the green bow tie, his pale face a nice shade of red. He was muttering under his breath, as he huffed and then sat beside his supposedly "enemy of the Crown and Arthur's fairy friends."

"What are you doing?" He asked, still annoyed by how the other blonde had denied the existence of his fairies. Arthur tried to take the 'F' block, since it was favorite color, a shade of green, but Francis slapped his hand away. "No," Francis retorted, "You can't have that one."

His blue eyes saddened slightly, as he saw Arthur slowly put the green block back in place. He felt a bit guiltier, when he saw how Arthur hid his hands in his lap, and how his eyes looked close to watering. The French boy sighed, and then bit his lip, as he handed Arthur a numbered green block to play with. "Here," he said, pushing it into the other children's hands. "Play with that one; I need the other blocks to spell my name…"

Arthur's face immediately brightened, as he turned over the green block in his hands. He mouthed the numbers, trying to stay in order. He managed up to twelve, before he got lost in his counting, and tried to save face by looking over to Francis still trying to spell his name. "Why are you trying to spell your name?" Arthur asked, and Francis looked up to say, "I have to know how to spell it, before I can make a sign thingy with it."

Arthur furrowed his large brows, "You mean a sig-no." He frowned, as he tried to remember what the word was. He tried again, "It was a sign-a something…uh, a signature?" His face brightened, as he clapped his hands, pleased with himself for his victory in wording. "Yes, that was it! At least, I think it was called a signature?"

"What's called a what?" Both turned to see Alfred, with a toy plane in his hand. The American boy's arm fell to his sides, as he came closer to his friends. "What are you guys talking about now?"

Before Francis could say anything, Arthur answered for him. "Francis wants to learn how to spell his name, so he can practice his signature or whatever it is." His face dusted slightly, as he pretended to play with his block. Francis smiled. He knew the other boy liked him…

"Arthur is right," Francis said, as he looked at a block labeled with a D. He tried to sound out his name, and frowned, when he heard no sound indicating the D. He tossed it aside, and went for a Q. Again, he sounded out his name and tossed aside the rejected letter.

It wasn't long after Alfred came, that Ivan finally managed to win his game with Kiku in some board with battle. He thought it was called Battleship or something like that. All he knew was that he had won, and being polite, he took the small candy extended to him and asked the Japanese boy if they could play again soon.

The smaller boy was hesitant to answer, but nonetheless he nodded, saying quietly, "You gave me a good game. I will see that we play again soon." With a bow on each other's part, Ivan walked away. He looked at the small pieces of wrapped Japanese candy Kiku had given him.

A small smile grew on his face, as he used a stealthy nail to slice the wrapper away. He popped the chewy candy into his mouth, satisfied with the game more than ever. Kiku always had good candy; he was willing to share when it came to games.

As he came over to Alfred, he couldn't help but look down on Francis. The small blonde was still trying to figure out how to spell out his name. Ivan chewed on the candy a bit longer, and then asked, "Do you want help? Russia liked French stuff for a time. I think I can help…"

Francis looked up; his face was bright, "Really?" Ivan nodded, smiling, as he began to sit. "Da, yes," he replied, as he looked to see the French boy's progress. He put his finger over every letter, sounding the name out as he went over it. "Francis," he said slowly, "F-R-A-N-C-I-S."

Francis blinked, Alfred paused in his aircraft attack on Arthur's pillar of green blocks, and Arthur looked up from his book of fairy tales. All stared at the Russian boy, as they gawked on the name spelled out in red, white and blue blocks. Francis giggled, and clapped.

Arthur smiled, "You spell really well, Ivan, if I do say myself." Alfred was the next to beam, and his wide grin made Ivan's face warm as he looked away. Alfred grinned, as he crawled closer and took one of Ivan's hands, grinning as his sky blue eyes shone into violet hues. "Oh, oh, do my name next!"

"Mine too!" Arthur agreed, as he said to himself, "I can't wait to tell Flying Mint Bunny…" Francis studied his blocks for a second, before he hurriedly got up and took a piece of paper to write down the letter. Thus, began his attempt to perfect his signature while Ivan used colored blocks to spell his friends' names.

"Wow…" Alfred whistled, "You can really spell. Are you sure English isn't your first language?" Ivan shook his head, "Nyet, English was not my first."

"Second?" Alfred asked, and Ivan shook his head. "Nyet, no," he said, "That was Russian." Alfred cocked his head in question, "What do Russians speak then?"

Ivan replied quickly, spelling out his name in blocks, as he said, "Russian." Alfred was confused, and then he asked, "So what was your first language?" Ivan wasn't as quick to respond, but after a short pause, he said, "Well, it's not used anymore, but I used to speak Slavic."

"Why did you stop?" Alfred asked. He didn't know what Slavic was, but he saw that Ivan knew it, so it must be important to his family or Russia. Ivan shrugged, "My mother and father told me to stop using it, and taught me Russian instead." He looked down at the blocks, "Russian was a bit easier to understand, so it was okay."

Alfred nodded, still not completely understanding. "Okay," he said, and then he brightened, as he asked, "Hey, wanna help me make a card for Mattie? My mommy says he comes home soon." The American boy's face was so bright, when Ivan looked up. But in the Russian's mind, he remembered his father's scolding in his head.

Don't touch the sleeping or the dead. The Devil and his family had to wary of the unconscious, he remembered his father saying sternly. It wasn't good for Ivan to touch them often, as he may spark something dangerous.

But seeing no harm, in the form of sleeping—besides the napping Greek boy at his desk, that is— or dead things, Ivan nodded and said, "That would be nice. I'm getting tired of spelling, anyways." He rose slowly, and felt something stir in him. He ignored it, as he asked, "Can I draw sunflowers? Does your little brother like those?"

Alfred nodded, "Yeah! Mattie likes everything, he really likes pancakes!" Ivan nodded, taking everything in. He could draw a sunflower, that's good. Mattie liked pancakes. Well, actually, Alfred said Mattie liked pretty much everything. Ivan could do that. He followed Alfred to the available coloring table, and he watched as Alfred took out a few sheets of paper and a box of crayons from the cubbies on the wall.

Alfred was beaming, humming to himself aloud, as he explained that the point was of card was to make Mattie feel better, and that it needed a happy or heroic message. Ivan nodded at every word, and once Alfred finished speaking, Ivan began to draw.

Taking a yellow crayon, he started his sunflower, then switched to brown, and drew the green stem downwards. He drew in a sun, holding out a hot plate of pancakes with lots of maple syrup. He had thought, since Mattie was Alfred's little brother, then he wouldn't mind the absurd amount of sugary syrup.

Once he was done drawing, he tried to think of a message to write. Drawing was always better than writing, writing was so much harder. You had to translate his thoughts from whatever language he had remembered into English and then make sure it was nice and neat and—

"Wow…"

Ivan looked up, and found he was surrounded by a small crowd of children. Arthur was looking intently at the bunny on his picture. Francis was smiling down at the red colored flowers. All of the other children had their own focus on Ivan's picture.

He blinked, and then looked around to see Mr. Vargas looking down as well. "Um…what's going on? Am I in trouble?" He was scared. He hadn't meant to get in trouble; he only wanted to make a card for Alfred's little brother.

"You can really draw, Ivan…" Mr. Vargas said, and then he clapped. "Ve~ That's great, we have an artist among us!" The bubbly Italian teacher was now clapping, in joy, and he asked, "Who are you drawing this for?"

Ivan blinked, and found himself inching towards Alfred subconsciously. 'Um, Alfred's little brother, I wanted to help Alfred make him a card." The class made a sound of awe, altogether, and Mr. Vargas smiled. "You're such a nice boy, Ivan. Mattie is such a lucky boy."

Ivan nodded, and then thought to look over to see Alfred hiding his own picture. He caught a glimpse of a stick figure, and Ivan looked down at his drawing and saw the little pretty picture of Mattie smiling back at him. He felt bad…

When the crowd finally left, Ivan saw Alfred throw his picture away, looking sadder than he had ever wanted to see him. Ivan felt guiltier. So, he strode over to the shorter boy and asked, "Can we…share the card?" At Alfred's confused look, Ivan continued, "I can't really think of anything to write. You know Mattie better, so you can write."

Alfred beamed, starting to get over the other's short fame over his drawing. "Really? That would be awesome!" Ivan smiled, "The vice principal is rubbing off on you." Alfred shrugged, laughing, and started to run back to their table.

He was already spewing random heroic quotes, and sayings he had read in one of his Uncle Fred's books; asking Ivan which one he should use for Mattie's card. Ultimately, they chose one, and as Ivan helped Alfred with his spelling, he thought to himself of how he was going to draw a picture for Alfred when he got home.

Then, he could bring it to school and make the boy happy. With one little card, with his name on it, to show off, Ivan could make Alfred smile. Ivan could make Alfred happy. His mind was already thinking of other ways he could make the other smile.

_I can make him so much happier, by my side._

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**-END CHAPTER-**

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So? How was it? Did this chapter make up for me running off, and flirting with Danes? :D I had so much fun, Danes are fun to dance with. They're such happy and energetic people, well, at least the ones I met…*sigh* I leave here in a few days…

Oh yeah, happy Fourth of July to all of my American readers! It's another year since your independence! Good for you. (I'm sorry, no offense, England.)

I count myself as German, even though I go to school in the US. So, I shall do nothing extraordinary today…:P

(If you didn't enjoy this chapter, for whatever reason, please don't kill me! I gave you guys a treat this chapter! We have FrUK fluff and RusAme fluff! We even got Mattie to wake up now! EVEN FAMILY FLUFF. See? Let me live! DX)

Did everyone like the letter scene? Any questions? Comments? Leave it in a review and make me have a smile for my day~ Please vote on my poll. I want you guys to tell me what story to start next. You can vote for three. Good luck.

~BrooklynBabbii

**Reviewers get to spend nap time with Alfred and Ivan~**

**Ivan: **We can share the sunflower blanket! :3

**READ AND ****REVIEW****!**

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**FUN FACT**: Yes, Russia has its own version of Winnie the Pooh. It's freaking _**ADORABLE**_. It only has a few episodes though, go watch it on YouTube. :3


	5. The Hero

**My Friend, For Eternity**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Children!AU He didn't know he had made friends with the very son of the Devil. All he knew was that he finally had a friend. Finally, a friend that wouldn't leave him, no matter what he did…He finally had someone. RussAme

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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Author Alert: ninjacat99, lafayette722, Hottie Star, ChibiHetalia, 6785887, iloveniallhoran251

Story alert/ Favorites: ** Animaegan, FreedomFighter50, nadzuke eno mono, PastaKolCheeseburger- San, BlackRoseDraco, MaliceArchangela, ninjacat99, salenastarzz, Hottie Star, Villain x Hero, PaperDream, ChibiHetalia, Apocalypse Angel Laiceica, TobiTheNinjaKitten, The Vampire Alchemist, 6785887, IvanKolKolKol, ncalkins, Flight of the Stars, Fireshadow242**

Reviewer(s)!: ** Oceanfur, Neverwinternightsgirl777, Animaegan, Anonymous(3), nadzuke eno mono, PastaKolCheeseburger-San, Ashcola17, Prussian Sinister, DanieSora, MoonlitMelody, ChubbyCubby23, lafayette722, salenastarzz, TobiTheNinjaKitten, emismpunk (2), Leylani-sama**

Oceanfur: Something is going to go wrong, you're right about that. Too much fluff in a demon fict is suspicious, and my fict is no exception. I love watching little kids color; a little boy from my neighborhood in the US always gives me pictures he colored at school. He calls me Bella, he's really sweet.

Neverwinternightsgirl777: If you want to dance, come right on over! There should be enough delish men for us to spoil our eyes on. Yes, Ivan made Mattie wake up…with a cost. I hope your 4th of July was mazing, mein freund! :D

Animaegan: I have nothing other than to say: Oh my Gott! You play Sudoku! :D (I love doing that, though I feel like an idiot at my dead ends…)

Anonymous: I'm so glad you love my story. Wow, really? What a coincidence…(Oh my Gott, I found an English! *immediate adoration*) Thank you for the sunflowers, they're so pretty! :3 I was actually going to ask that this chapter though, about the time skip… Aw, I love you, too, anonymous reviewer! I hope to see you again, soon, but with a name for me to remember you by. ((I don't really know much about FrUK, but I think it works well with this fict.))

nadzuke eno mono: Yes, you may nap with the sunflowers too. Sweet dreams, hun. (I was lucky, though I think my good luck had something to do with being a German with Ukraine assets…ah well, free drinks and attention. I'm not complaining.) I'm glad you like who everyone adores Ivan, despite the dangerous child he is underneath.

Anonymous: LOL, another 'cute'. I must be really good at this. X)

PastaKolCheeseburger-San: You have a good right to feel worried, that waking up has its occurrences. Denmark was amazing. I'll gladly keep up with this story.

Ashcola17: No, it isn't fair how cute and fluffy this story is. Grow a cavity with its fluffiness! XD I'm glad you worried about Mattie, hardly anyone does, and I'm glad you enjoy my plot.

Prussian Sinister: It is nice, isn't it? I'm glad you enjoyed the fluff. And yes, the Danes are nice. Well, nice to the little German me. I had fun, and their Danish rolls were fan-fucking-tastic. :D

Anonymous3: Yes, it was for the greater good…You're absolutely worth it.

DanieSora: I am so glad you love the cuteness and fluff, but I can't guarantee that about the Cold war just yet. I need to ask the majority an important question before I do that…

MoonlitMelody: I'm no exception, even I find him adorable…and yes, that awakening will come back and bite them in the ass. I highly doubt Ivan is aware, and when he is, he tries to ignore it for as long as he can. Ivan is very old, do you know how long it's been since Slavic was spoken? Geez, and I thought Latin was old… (You guys made my happy in Denmark, seeing all of your sweet reviews…;u;)

ChubbyCubby23: I most certainly will, I'm glad you like the fluff of my story.

lafayette722: I'm happy you're happy about the good news about Mattie. You're welcome on the cookie, anytime, hun. I find the Russian Winnie the Pooh cute~

salenastarzz: Hey! That is abuse of the word 'cute'! For your punishment, READ THIS UPDATE! XD

Villain x Hero: BEST USERNAME EVER. XD

TobiTheNinjaKitten: You love tea parties, too? Come join us, then! We were just setting out the cookies! The adorableness was overwhelming, eh? I should turn it down a bit and add some romance, ja? (We're all weird in the eyes of normal people. In strange eyes, you are accepted and love. Join the strange club!)

emismpunk: I'm so glad I can please a reader. I try to keep them as best as I can, while still retaining my reality of the story. (2) I'm so glad you're glad Mattie woke up. Ivan and Alfred are glad you approve their relationship, some people don't…

Night13: …I did not know that until after I posted the chapter. I'm glad you said so, because now it gives you a bit more fear for Mattie. If not, fear OF Ivan. Yes, Ivan has powers…but he doesn't know how to use them really. He may be old, but he's still a child. They do make cute friends.

Leylani-sama: I love momma's boy!Ivan, it's so cute. Chibi!FrUK, heh, what can I say? It's growing on me. You're about to find out what happens to demons touching the dead and sleeping….Sweetheart, if you did that, you get Russian kisses…and maybe a thank you hug or two or three or just become a blood toy forever….LOL.

**This is the most attention Canada has ever gotten in any story that I have ever done with him…****EVER****. Almost every review last chapter said they were happy for him. Mathew was having a field day, obviously. XDD**

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**Question: Do you want a sequel as a separate story, as a continuation on this one?**

**Please answer, I need to know, before I can continue…**

**So, as my only real way of thanking you all for your patience — **

**I present to you: **Chapter Five** of "**_My Friend, for Eternity_**"! **

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**.:Chapter Five:.**

_The Hero_

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It was just a normal day on the playground. It was nothing too fancy or really special to memory. It wasn't so hot, that they were complaining, but it was giving a nice pleasant warmth to all of the children that were outside. The clouds were of the pretty and fluffy variety. It was just a nice day…

…Or at the very least, that's how it had been when Ivan had left to go inside for an extra shovel to use with his friends at the sandbox. He promised to be back soon, though, so his friends thought nothing of it.

Alfred smiled, as he tried to build up his fort. Taking a colorful and plastic bucket, he filled it with sand. Patting the top and leveling it, he held it over the spot he wanted, and then hurriedly placed the sand there. Some of it wobbled, from how fast he had removed it, but most of the sand remained intact. Alfred smiled. He had always liked playing in the dirt. No matter what his mommy said.

Arthur was sitting in the corner, chewing on the some toffee he had sneaked from home in his pocket, and reading some book on fairies. He looked happy with it. Nobody bothered him. Although occasionally, he would pop out of his book, and ask why the others couldn't see the fairies like he could. He got the same answer from Francis.

A dramatic sigh, and then Francis looked up from his drawing in the sand. "Mon cher, your nasty food is making you see things. There are _no_ fairies!" Blue eyes glimmered; there was a spark in there that the little French boy liked to claim was the spirit of Paris in him. "How many times must we tell you? Are you trying to get sent to the nurse again?"

Arthur glared at the plumper blonde, as he wrinkled his nose. Green eyes mocking, "The fairies _are_ real, Mr. Know-it-all." Color rose to his face. "My mum's cooking is better than your French guck." A dramatized gasp, which made Arthur all the more eager to rant on, and to which Alfred was oblivious.

"And you can say it all you wait, frog! They are real," Arthur snapped, and Francis picked up his plastic shovel. Arthur continued, "And I hope you get a wedgie from all of those stupid pants of yours! I'm not hyperactive, and my mind is fine, the nurse is wrong!"

Arthur saw the plastic utensil, and his green eyes narrowed. Alfred continued to be oblivious. Arthur took up another plastic shovel, and pointed it at Francis, who point back. "The fae are real!" He cried.

Francis huffed, "No, they're not! You're crazy! You're seeing lint bunnies or something!" A moment later, and the duo were trying to fight at each other with plastic shovels, trying their hardest to gain an opening. A blue shovel would clash with a red one, and then they would jump apart. A second later, they were at it again. All the while, Alfred was oblivious, and the two fighting bantered back and forth.

"Frog," Arthur yelled. He jumped at Francis, but the other blocked it, and pushed back. His action caused Arthur to have to either retreat or risk falling over. Arthur chose retreating back a few steps. He didn't want to be humiliated further. The French boy would never let him live it down.

"Sissy," Francis retorted. He caught another swing from the little English boy, before he made one of his own. His move was blocked as well. They were getting nowhere, but nonetheless, they kept on. Neither one of them wanted to back down or admit defeat.

"Girly-boy," Arthur tried to snap. But he was in a bit of a trouble. He had looked down a little, to try and hit Francis at his side, and saw that his shoelace was coming undone. He hadn't quite learned to tie his shoes perfectly yet, and he couldn't see any sprites to help him either. He just hoped his shoe held out until he could properly sit down and call for one's assistance.

"At least the girls come to me," Francis smirked. His smile was far too smug. But the little boy felt he had a reason to be proud. Girls seemed to favor him because they said his hair smelled nice and his clothes were pretty.

But while, Francis loved the attention he received from them, most of the time, when he was invited over to play with the girls, he left early because he simply found that the girls were boring. He had tried to start a miniature debate with one of them, the little girl from Seychelles, but she said he was being weird. Francis gave up after that, going back to sitting with his original friends.

The girls were nice and pretty, but so was a kitten in his opinion. He had a cat at home, named Madame Angeline. But she let him call her "Angie" sometimes. She was nice like that, because she's a French cat. And French cats are so much better than whatever else the other kids had.

"Because you flirt," Arthur snapped. It wasn't really an excuse to him. It barely counted as one in his mind. But it was all he could come up with on the spot. He had not planned on fighting the French boy today…or at least; he hadn't gotten that far in his planning. He had kind of hoped that the fairies would help him think of something. When they were around, that is.

"Because I'm French~" Francis cooed, making kissing faces. Arthur feigned disgust, but his face burned. He inwardly called the other names in that weird form of English that his older brother, Angus, liked to yell in when he was mad. He didn't know what it meant, but Angus liked to yell it when he was mad.

"And then they run away, crying cooties," Arthur barked, "when they realize you're a frog!" Francis made a dramatic gasp. He flipped his hair from his hair, narrowing his blue eyes, as he swung as his plastic sword. He had almost scored a hit, until he felt something pull at his hair. But when he looked, nothing was there.

"You're just mad, because Sally said your scones looked _burnt_!" Francis shouted, and Arthur's green eyes went livid. He swung, and brought down his shovel down on Francis'. They were now shovel-to-shovel, and trying to push each other back.

"Take that back, you selfish git!" Arthur cried out angrily. The Englishman still hadn't lived down that day. His mom had made strawberry scones, his very favorite, and when he had brought some to school, only Alfred and Ivan had tried them. Ivan said they were okay, but that he wasn't really sure about English food. Alfred just tried to eat them all, complaining he was starving, after they had just had lunch.

Arthur had tried to offer the rest of the class some, and some were nice, but some were not. Sally had been one of the few who openly insulted the goods. Even Mr. Vargas turned him down. His excuse was: "Ve, ah, n-no, thank you, Arthur. But thank you. I'm sorry. But, um, I had a big bowl of pasta for lunch. Yeah. P-pasta…"

Arthur had nodded like a good boy, and returned the scones to his lunch pack. They were conspiring against the great British pastry. They would all surrender one day. One day, he would rule over them all. He would have the world in his hands…

"Make me!" Francis continued to mock the other, letting down his guard. "Scones are _nasty_." He stuck out his tongue, and made faces, as he held his hands at his ears. "Nasty – nasty – nasty – nasty, scones are the _nastiest _thing ever made!"

"That's it, frog," Arthur cried, throwing down his plastic shovel. "You're going down!" A second later, Arthur jumped at Francis, and the two were rolling around in the sandbox. Little hands were pulling at hair, and tiny mouths were biting at whatever was in reach. Little feet were kicking each other ineffectively, and free hands were slapping and throwing weak punches at whatever skin was available.

Alfred finally looked up, and saw his two friends fighting, and laughed. "You guys are cute," he said, and barely caught either of the fighting children's attention. Well, that is, until he said, "You guys have a crush on the other!"

That immediately stopped the fight, as both blondes stared at the oblivious American child in the sandbox. They both said in unison, "What?"

Arthur pushed Francis off of him, and tried to sit up. "I don't think so, Alfred," he said. He shook the grit from his hair, and tried to straighten his shirt. His tie was crooked now, because of his fight with the frog, to his disappoint. His lip stuck out in a pout.

"You can't possibly," Francis pouted, as he rubbed his sore cheek, "be thinking I would ever like him." Arthur bites really hard, he knew. He liked to think that the boy had such good bites from how strong his jaw must be from the baked dirt he keeps bringing to eat at lunch. He also knew that the other tended to leave silly marks, when he bit Francis. Yes, that is right. He never bit anyone else. He might snap at them, and tease, but he only ever actually bit Francis.

Alfred nodded, not even looking at either now, as he looked at his sandcastle. "I'm sure; you two will work it out or something." He said, nodding to himself. Arthur rolled his eyes, but then he frowned as he saw three figures coming towards them in the distance.

"Now what to do about my fort…"Alfred mumbled, as he looked around for something else to use. He wanted something to add to it. But he didn't know what to add. He already had a pinecone. Sticks were not the answer. He had some rocks and pebbles. He even found an old barrette buried in the sand. What was he missing?

Arthur poked Francis, and after enduring a brief glare for doing so in a sore spot, the English boy jerked his head at the approaching children. They were close now, and their faces didn't look friendly, despite their smiles. They were also taller. They were probably from the older children, and from the middle school next door.

"Alfred, watch out," Arthur and Francis cried out at the last minute. Alfred looked up, too late, and all three little boys had to shield their face from a wide arc of sand and the varied debris Alfred had collected in his fort.

Alfred uncovered his eyes, and gasped. "Hey!" He snapped at the large boy with his foot still embedded in the center of the ruined fort. "What did you do that for?"

The large boy blinked innocently, and then grinned. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I did wrong." Alfred glared at him, the worst glare he could muster; but since the other boy didn't even flinch, it was probably ineffective.

"You messed up my fort!" Alfred shouted at the larger child. Arthur didn't know why, but he felt afraid. He didn't like these new boys. They were big and scary and didn't like they would take too kindly to being talked back to by little kids. He really wished Alfred would hush, so they would go on about their way. One look at Francis told him, that the other felt the same way.

"You're a big jerk," Alfred snapped, and then tried to go back to his demolished fort. Arthur tried helping him, despite how one boy began making fun of his eyebrows. He felt his face burn, and a trickle of hurt begin. It wasn't his fault that he had them. They had no right to point them out. They were being jerks.

Francis crawled over, and tried assisting in collecting the damaged items, to the scoffs and mocking laughter above. Arthur grew a little bold, as he snapped, "Bugger off, before I tell a teacher. You're not even supposed to be on this side of the playground, anyways."

The dark look that they gave him told him that was the wrong thing to say. Francis pulled him back down, and tried to make him keep his head down to avoid eye contact. Francis knew just as well as he did, about bullying. The older kids liked to call Francis a bunch of names, since finding he was boy and that he dressed in a bunch of girly fashions.

For a few moments of peace, the trio heard the sound of feet walking away and soft grumbling. Francis looked up, to see if the coast was clear, and then he shrieked. A near moment later, one of the boys ran and jumped right in the pile of sand that the boys had been tried to assemble.

Alfred yelp, barely covering his face in time, before he fell backwards. But Arthur and Francis weren't so lucky. Francis hit his head on a rock, falling back, and had driven sand into his clothes. Arthur was sprayed with sand. He started crying, as the sand burned in his eyes. He spat it from his mouth, and tried to wipe it off his face, but his tears made the sand stick to his wet cheeks.

"Not- hack- fair," Arthru managed to choke out. He started to cough, a bit of sand having made it into his mouth. He glared at the other boys, with puffy and reddening green eyes, "you meanies!"

The other boys laughed, "Is that the best, you've got, Big-Brows? Pathetic." Arthur felt his eyes water, as the one of the boys called him a crybaby. But just as one boy made a move to lift his foot to stomp on Arthur's hand, Alfred leapt at him and knocked him over.

Francis dove for Arthur's side, trying to help wipe off the sand, while the other boys were a bit distracted. Alfred was trying to punch the other boy, but a bitten back yelp was heard as he was knocked back by a stiff punch to his lip.

"You little shit," one of them swore. "We were just playing earlier, but now you're going to get it, for jumping me."

"You're going to do what, now?"

The voice was accented, and clipped. It wasn't a teacher. But it didn't sound like a little kid either. Alfred held back a groan, as he sucked on his split lip. He saw Ivan standing behind him. He inwardly wondered when he had gotten there. He hadn't been there a few seconds ago?

"Who the Hell are you supposed to be?" The downed boy said, as he dusted himself off, when one of the other boys lifted him to his feet. "Their stupid hero or something?" Ivan didn't even grace them with a response, instead he stepped forward.

Just as soon, as his back was to his trio of friends, Ivan's violet eyes brightened into a shade of red-violet. The whites around his eyes, darkened to black, his pupils slit, and a scaly look seemed to come across his skin as the sun retreated behind a group of tall pines.

The boys' eyes widened. But Ivan calmly hid his hands behind his back, glad that he remembered to wear his gloves today. "Get out of my playground," Ivan growled, and the shadows behind the boys quivered. Unbeknownst to the older boys, Ivan's demonic looks could only be seen by those he showed it to.

And right about now, they were getting a good view. Ivan's shadow was standing beside, like a clone, but without a face and completely dark. It had a wicked and evil smile that stretched from ear to ear. Sharp teeth glittered in the sun. But Ivan's face was completely dark with a barely repressed rage and anger.

"Don't make me repeat myself," he warned. The shadow vanished, and appeared behind one boy and licked his ear, before carefully nipping it and making him yelp and clap a hand over it, alarmed. The other boy was slowly backing away, but the leader didn't move.

"Or what, you little punk?" The leader tried to remain brave, though he felt anything but. He could feel the shadows of everything around him moving. He could actually feel them touching him, trying to crawl up his body and –

"Or I'll have to eat you, da?" Ivan's shadow spoke into his ear. It had two voices at once, and it was creepy as Hell. The leader felt himself pale, as he felt teeth graze his pulse and not in a good way. Ivan narrowed his eyes, "Get out."

The older boys made haste to do so. Obviously, they had chosen the wrong group of little kids to pick on that afternoon.

Ivan immediately put his shadow put in order, and hid his demonic features. His violet eyes were suddenly worried, as he tended to his friends. Especially Alfred, little Alfred who had gone quiet, and didn't talk for a little while.

Arthur made a fuss over Ivan's help, but he stopped complaining after Ivan fixed his tie. That seemed to make him happier. Francis claimed he was fine with a hug. Ivan decided not to ask, but told the French boy to keep his hands where they were supposed to be.

When Ivan turned back to Alfred again, trying to use a tissue from a packet in pocket to wipe the other's bloody lip, Alfred grunted and snatched it away. "Just let me do it," he snapped. "You're going to make it seem like I'm wearing my blood like lipstick or something."

Ivan was almost immediately hurt, but he chalked it up to pride. Alfred had gotten hurt, probably trying to defend Francis and Arthur. Ivan must have stolen his "spot light" or something. Ivan tried to use that very pride against him. "Thank you for giving me time to get here, Alfred." When Alfred looked up, Ivan continued, as he tried to be as honest as he could. "You kept the others safe, as best you could, when I wasn't here. Thank you."

Even though Alfred said, "Yeah, yeah, whatever, heroes always do stuff like that, right?" The blush on his face told Ivan everything he needed to know. One: Alfred had somewhat forgiven him for the "spot light" thing. Two: He wasn't that mad about it, or at least, not enough to stop talking to him for it.

And three: he had indirectly given Ivan permission to kill the other boys for laying a hand on him.

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**After Dark**

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It was well over their curfew, but the same boys from that day on the playground, were now skating in an abandoned parking lot. It had been some time, about a week or so, and all three of them had pretty much made themselves and each other forget about their little encounter with Ivan.

Riding his skateboard on the railing, the leader of the three boys laughed loudly, as he jumped off. When one of the others paled, and stammered, "D-dude, like…the little k-kid is back…" The leader frowned, and then rolled his eyes. "Johnny," he snapped, "dude, how much of my stuff have you smoked today? It can't be good, because you're just imagining shit. Again."

This wasn't the first time Johnny, the one Ivan's shadow had bit, had claimed to have seen Ivan or his creepy shadow watching or following them.

"R-Randy," the other one in their group said, pale and pointing up at the top of the stairs, when the leader had just skated off, "He's not l-lying or s-seeing things…He's really th-there…" The leader frowned again, and scratched his head through his hat. He shook his head, as he tried to fight off the chills and tell himself they were just playing a cruel joke on him.

"Dudes, like not funny," Randy said. "That's **not** cool. We made _swore_ not to talk about him, alright? Are you guys going back on your promises?" He narrowed his eyes, and then tried to play his trump card. "'Cause I don't _have to_ sneak in my bro's room to get some more pot, only for you two to go smoking so much and start seeing stupid shit!" He scoffed, "I don't _have to_ nearly get _my_ ass killed, with each steal, stop fucking around and drop the act."

His friends shook their heads, backing up, and dropping their boards on the ground. They were pale and shaking. They were also in a corner, having gone down the stairs to the rounded little ditch with cement walls, because it was good for riding on.

The leader frowned again. This was so not cool in his opinion. It was some pretty fucked up humor, actually. He snapped at them, "Guys, quit it! This isn't fucking funny! Stop messing with me! I'm the leader, and I say _quit fucking around_!"

"I find that there's nothing to laugh about Randall Victor Theodore II."

Randy stiffened. That voice was all too familiar. The familiar quality of being too formal to be a children, too light to be an adult. Plus no one but his bitch of a mother called him by his whole name. Few people even knew he was a junior, named after his military hero of a dad, who had left his pregnant mom like a not-so military heroic dick.

His friends were all but crying in fear. Well, actually, Johnny was crying, but he wasn't an outright sobbing mess, yet. So that was good, right?

Randy bit his lip, swallowed something in his dry throat, and suddenly realizing that maybe – just maybe – being high right now probably wasn't a good idea. It was much less of a good idea, where that kid was concerned, in his opinion.

He tried to be brave once more, if only, because he was in front of his friends, and he was high as fuck off of good pot. "What the Hell, do you want, you little shit?" He wished he hadn't said anything. He wished he hadn't turned around.

For as soon as the words left his mouth, a shadow speared Johnny through his mouth, blood riveting out, and his eyes bulging. His screams became a gurgled mess, as Ivan smiled from up above. He hopped off of his perch on the railing. He clicked his tongue, wagging his finger at them. "Such foul language, and coming from such babies such as yourselves."

Randy's eye twitched, but he didn't dare move. Johnny was crying now, but he was still alive. His other friend, well maybe, ex-friend now, was trying to edge away. But a long shadow curled around him like a constricting snake, and kept him in place. Randy, at least, was going to be given the comfort of dying with his friends.

"You look like a fucking midget," Randy snapped, and he meant to continue, but a shadow stopped short of right between his eyes. He gulped audibly, his Adam's apple bobbing, as he looked up. Something told him that Ivan's height was a touchy subject.

Truth be told, Ivan's eyes were dark, and his shadow clone was giggling darkly from his side. "Do not speak of my height, you insolent little whelp." Ivan took the steps slowly, with the grace of someone of royalty who had practiced all their life. "I have been around long enough to know that one should be quiet in a situation where his tongue can very well determine his fate."

Randy looked down at Ivan. Said Russian demon quickly corrected this. "Don't look down on me," he snarled, violet eyes flashing red and pupils slitting. "You are below me, not the other way around." With the impatience of a finger snap, Randy found himself two feet shorter than he had been. Oh, and yes, he was in pain. Ivan had used a shadow to sever about half of his legs.

Randy tried to scream, but another shadow was gently lines in the veins on his neck. Ivan smirked, "Look behind you." Randy whimpered, tears flooding his eyes, as he could easily smell the copper in the air. He looked back and screamed inside his mouth, eyes wide with denial, and tears coming forth.

Johnny was split open, gutted like a pig, and his jaw was hanging open with a slit through the middle. The other friend's head was lying on the floor, eyes still wide in a mix of fear and shock; his mouth open in an unheard scream. The body was lying slumped over on the ground, carelessly.

Randy really wished he had never gone to school that day. That he had faked sick and played video games at home, or something. He wanted anything, **but **staring at the childlike demon in front of him. Ivan was smiling at him, eyes red, and fangs exposed.

"Did you see them, Randy?" Ivan cooed, smiling. His smile fell, and his eyes narrowed. "You don't get that mercy. You hit Alfred." A sudden change of expression, as a maniac look came over Ivan's face. "I'm going to make you beg to die, da?"

Randy screamed, as sharp teeth tore into his throat; a ruthless mouth started tearing and tossing away his flesh like candy wrappers to get to the juicy meat and sweet nectar below. Alas, nothing was heard beyond Ivan's evil laughter echoing in his head, the loud smacks and chews as he was eaten alive, and the slurps of blood.

Ivan could only think of one thing, as he devoured the human that had dared to lay a hand on what was his. He could only think of one thing, as he made sure the human survived the whole ordeal, and felt as much pain as possible. Only one thing and that was that:

_No one will ever dare lay a hand on Alfred, while he is by my side._

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**-END CHAPTER-**

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Okaaaaay. I found way-y-y too much enjoyment in writing that last scene. It sucks to be those boys. Especially Randy, damn, it sucks to be him. **Note**: Do not _**EVER**_wind up on Ivan's shit list. You will utterly _**FUCKED**_.

Oh yeah, I'll make it a regular thing for Russian fun facts. XDD these are sooo funny. I love Russia, but no one wants to take me there….;_; I will go one day. Any Russians reading this: you guys are awesome! I love your accent. I will be there one day to hug you all. :D

If you didn't enjoy this chapter, for whatever reason, please don't kill me! Did everyone like the heroic moment and the revenge? Come on, you guys know you like the idea of Ivan kicking some ass. ;D

Any questions? Comments? Leave it in a review and make me have a smile for my day~

~Bai-Marionette

**Reviewers get to have a free (Demonic) Sunflower, courtesy of Ivan~**

**Ivan: **Aren't the flowers pretty? :D

**READ AND ****REVIEW****!**

**FUN FACT**: [A Russian will use the slightest reason to bring everyone gifts of chocolate. "It's your birthday in four and a half months? Wow! Chocolate for the entire office!"] I don't know it this is legit, but I would love to meet a Russian in the office…I would love that guy, and give him everyone's birthdays. :3


	6. Best Friends

**My Friend, For Eternity**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Children!AU He didn't know he had made friends with the very son of the Devil. All he knew was that he finally had a friend. Finally, a friend that wouldn't leave him, no matter what he did…He finally had someone. RussAme

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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Author Alert: xXNovenusPrimeXx, Dolce Latte van Creme

Story alert/ Favorites: **momo9momo, Maxiay, Perfect1Up, milesae19, vampy-chan321, DarkenedHeartandMind, , Starrishine, Dolce Latte van Crème, Maiden Marvel, yapok, Emi Fumiko, ChildofStorms, Lazy Gaga, summer164, 0X0PaNdA HeRo0X0, **

Reviewer(s)!: **BlackRoseDraco, kukuki, lafayette722, PaperDream, Prussian Sinister, Animaegan, nadzuke eno mono, PastaKolCheeseburger-San, Oceanfur, Leylani-sama, ncalkins, emismpunk, Neverwinternightsgirl777, MoonlitMelody, Ashcola17, DanieSora, JoyHeart, Usagi323, DarkenedHeartandMind, Russia - Ivan Braginsky, , CluelessHuman, Dolce Latte van Crème, salenastarzz, Maiden Marvel**

BlackRoseDraco: Separate sequel, gotcha. And I most certainly will. Thank you~

kukuki: I'm so glad you did. Their relationship is cute, and somewhat unstable/dangerous. But I still adore it. Even if Alfred is a proud idiot, though. XD

lafayette722: Maybe he did go a little easy on them. Err, I mean too harsh. Yeah…harsh. Bullies suck ass. I have been asking around and Russia sounds so beautiful. I love the Hetalia-Russia even more. If that's even possible. :D

PaperDream: *Hands you sunflower* Revenge and heroism are awesome and oh-so satisfying.

Prussian Sinister: Mind your language; this is a child's show! XD But yes, another vote for the sequel. Do what I do, think nothing of it, and just smile and review. *hands you sunflower* Have fun with it. :)

Animaegan: I'm so glad you did! And your friend sounds AWESOME. My work shall continue.

nadzuke eno mono: *hands you chocolate* Satisfied, my dear? I missed them too, it's so much fun to write them all as kids, I'm getting really good at it. Pft, that's what happens when you do drugs, kids? Ivan comes in, and kills you! :D LOL. I get it. "In pieces." ;) You, cunning person you~

PastaKolCheeseburger-San: Yes, yes, he most certainly did. No one wants to be them…I like making chibi!FrUK is so cute. It'll be great for later, as a past reference for when they're older. But it's adorable, da? ^J^

Staying awesome is too easy for him, I naturally radiate awesome, like Prussia. LOL, hasta la pasta to you too!

Oceanfur: Ivan is adorable, and Russian possessiveness is always good! :D I don't think you want to stalk Ivan. You right, he would kill us. Err, you. I am certainly not stalking a demon child. *shifty eyes* Touché, you are following me, you would find it anyways.

Leylani-sama: Will do, hun! *places sunflower by bed*I'm glad you liked the hero scene, and how Ivan tried to "avenge" Alfred by murdering the bullies. You want a demonic shadow? XD No, you don't want to see Ivan like this. It will be your last sight. XP Ivan is brilliant. (Another vote for a sequel, alright then. I can't wait to see you all in Europe or Canada. Canada is really nice, and I would love to go back.) Russian co-workers would be loved. Russia sends back his own kisses, as well! ;)

ncalkins: Ivan took it that way. Alfred did not say anything. Ivan just took Alfred's response to him, in a demon perception. When someone harms your mate, and your mate acknowledges you, you avenge them. Ivan did just that. Alfred didn't tell him to do anything. XD

emismpunk: I love it too, we all love it. It's what makes our RusAme hearts soar into the high heavens. :D

Neverwinternightsgirl777: Yes, destroy the bullies! And yes, that is where the sequel takes place. The FrUK will remain. Don't hurt the sunflower, hun. Shower it with love and regular rainfall. We all love Russians, and if we have a Russian co-worker, we will love him and hug everyday.

MoonlitMelody: No, he didn't, and so did a lot of people. XD I don't know, you'll have to ask Ivan yourself. Nyet, no, the sunflowers are not carnivorous. They just bring about death and destruction to your enemy. Would you like one? :3 (Another vote for a sequel…and I didn't think of it that way. More followers, and my original ones too? Wow…That's genius. M&M, you are a genius! :D) Yes, free chocolate and nice co-working Russians=Awesome. :D

Ashcola17: Yes, I am, and LOL. Ivan is amazing, although he is kind of scary. It would be hard to remember he is a child, when he acts and/or talks like that. (Another vote for sequel! :D) CRÈME-MOTHER FUCKING-CAKE, YEAH! Hell yeah, I'll join you! :DD

DanieSora: Another vote for sequel, and if it is, then I will be the best little Russian-fan EVER.

JoyHeart: Yes, they are. *shudders* It sucks to be Randy/others, doesn't it? Yes, Alfred will find out about it. And yes, I will post a link for all of you guys. :)

Usagi323: Ivan can fit under the bed, too, you do know that? (Another vote for a sequel, alright then!)

DarkenedHeartandMind: Just sign here, since you're new, and the flowers will be mailed to your address. I'm so glad you adore my fict. You're not the only one who likes creepy/fluff in a fict. Look at everyone here. Look at me, I wrote it. XD You're welcome here. Have a hug from a demonic child.

Russia - Ivan Braginsky: Another vote for the sequel. Gracias, Russia!

: I'm glad you think so, danke. Ivan is so cute, in his feelings for Alfred; hopefully it ends well for the both of them. I hope this update is soon enough for you.

CluelessHuman: I'm glad you did too, I feel more loved every day I see all of my lovely readers. ^^ Danke for the support! :D

Dolce Latte van Crème: Yes, go, and hurry! Before the plane seats fill up! I'm so glad you think so, and I hope this chapter pleases you just as much. ^^

salenastarzz: *hands you sunflower* Take good care of it. ^^ (I'll see you at the airports, I'll be in the purple gym suit. :D)

Maiden Marvel: Someone noticed! :o Danke~ (Trust me it's a lot more dramatic in the older version. ^^)

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**I like how everyone forgot about Mathew…again. LOL, you guys are so PRUSSIAN-AWESOME. ALL IS RIGHT WITH THE WORLD. SAMUEL HAS BEEN FORGOTTEN.**

**Oh yes, and Fred comes back this chapter! With a new guest: Spain~ (Guest appearance: DAT ASS.)**

**CLAP, YOU BABIES, I COMMAND YOU TO CLAP FOR THE ADORABLE FLUFF AND JEALOUSY AND SHIT ELSE ABOUT TO COME'ITH FORTH. XD**

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**Previous Question's Answer: Separate story for sequel. ^.^ It won by default, no one was against it.**

**So, as my only real way of thanking you all for your patience — **

**I present to you: **Chapter Six** of "**_My Friend, for Eternity_**"! **

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**.:Chapter Six:.**

_Best Friends_

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Stuffing things into his backpack, while his little brother was asking him twenty questions for each and every one thing, was Alfred. For some reason, his dad hadn't come home last night, to help him get ready for school the next day, like he usually did. His mother had said it was because his dad was still working a lot, even though Alfred knew Mattie for fine most of the time.

Most of the time, Mattie was fine. Ever since Mathew had left the hospital, he got sick from the simplest things, the doctors said that his ability to stay healthy was sort of 'acting funny'. Whatever that meant, the doctors never really told him anything he didn't already know.

He was healthy, blah blah; he was growing bigger every time they came to see him, blah blah. At least the nurses made to at least act like they cared and would even sneak him a lollipop. They always made him pinky-promise to not tell the doctor. Alfred always kept his promises.

"Um…Alfie?" Alfred heard a soft voice whisper, and he turned and saw Mattie, dragging behind a red and white striped blanket, still in his pajamas. "What'cha doing?" The younger boy blinked, and frowned, as his eyes took their time to focus. Mathew's eyes were going bad, he wasn't going blind, but his eyesight wasn't the 20/20 vision he used to have.

Alfred smiled at his little brother, as he shouldered his bag, as he said, "Getting ready for school, I have to catch the bus today, since Daddy's not home." He didn't even think of a reason to why he should worry over his father's absence.

Alfred smiled innocently, as he walked to the other boy, and fixed his collar, before their mother made a fuss over it. Mattie drooled in his sleep, ever since he was a baby, and being asleep hadn't changed that about him at all. Alfred took the younger boy's hand and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a paper towel roll and wiping the wet mouth.

Mattie squealed, and sneezed, to which both boys giggled. Alfred threw the used paper towel away, took up his lunch from the fridge, that his mother had packed for him, and hummed a tune as he walked back out. Mattie followed close behind, smiling, and trying to sing along.

Their voices were off key, but neither noticed. They were just happy to have the other back with them. Mattie didn't like the hospital, and his shyness around all of the doctors made it hard to find what was wrong with him. But when he was with his big brother, he felt better. He felt stronger, like he could fight a whole cold all by himself, just to see his brother smile and say: 'I knew you could do it, Mattie!'

Mattie stood by the screen door of the house, as he watched his brother grow smaller and smaller as he walked for his bus stop. The little boy twirled the lock of droopy hair by his ear, playing with the curl, and hiding a cough in the crook of his arm. He sniffed, feeling the cold drift in, but he didn't close the door and go inside, even though his body was telling him to.

He wanted to be big and strong, like his big brother. His big brother was always smiling, and energetic. Mattie felt himself frown, as he looked down at the little red tufts at his feet of his footie pajamas. His big brother didn't wear footie pajamas, even though Mattie told him they were really warm. His hand stopped at his hair, as he remembered that his big brother had short hair.

Mattie hadn't gotten his hair cut, since he first got into the hospital, and went to 'sleep', like everyone said he did. Ever since, he had gone to sleep, everyone seemed to either treat him like glass or like he wasn't there. But they noticed his big brother, because he was always healthy and he was in school.

Mattie would get well soon, so he could be healthy like his big brother. He wanted to go to school, like his big brother. He wanted to be noticed as much just as much as his big brother. Maybe then, his big brother would say again: 'I knew you could do it, Mattie!'

Mattie smiled, as he shut the door. He was going to be a big boy, then. That's what his mommy and daddy always called Alfred. A big boy, Mattie was on a mission to be a big boy. He would have his big brother back with him, as his idol and best friend, again.

He had to get his best friend back. His only friend. Mattie hated being alone. The hospitals are scary. Mattie was on his way, up the stairs, as he heard his and Alfred's shared mother calling him from the bathroom to take his medicine.

Mattie smiled, he would get better real soon.

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**The Playground**

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"Just look at him," Francis snarled, as he crossed his arms over his chest. The purple shirt he wore was ruffled around the right collar, as it flared out, but Francis wasn't able to brag about his new short today. He wasn't able to brag about his new white and green-striped scarf either. He couldn't brag about his new designer khaki pants, or the fact that he had finally gotten the very last color to his Converse collection of shoes.

He couldn't brag about any of that, and why was that?

The new Spanish kid that was currently hogging all of Arthur's attention, and playing it off as nothing, as if the little French boy hadn't been trying to win over the Brit for most of the year, and failed. But no, what made him so mad was how some new kid, who was into ships, had gotten the little English boy so easily.

Francis was all but seething. But seething was unattractive to the ladies, as his mother said, so he was playing with Alfred and Ivan in the opener area of wildflowers. Alfred was chasing after the bubbles that Ivan was blowing from the little kit he had asked from Mr. Vargas. Not even a few minutes earlier, said Mr. Vargas had been with Alfred, in chasing in the bubbles. But his visiting brother, who worked downtown, had dragged him away and told him 'to grow up'.

Whatever that meant.

"Just who does he think he is," Francis growled, as he glowered across the field. The new Spanish kid, Antonio Fernández Carriedo, was laughing to some stupid thing he had said about their yellow ship he was 'sailing' through the 'sea' of the sandbox. But what made Francis really mad was how Arthur was giggling too, and trying to 'sail' his red and blue ship next to Antonio's yellow one.

Francis glared at the Spanish boy's curly head of dark hair. He wanted to find that Hungarian girl, from the other room, and put her gum in his hair. Antonio liked to let Arthur brush it, and put in little red barrettes that looked like stupid tomatoes. Because Antonio lo-oved tomatoes, almost as much as he loved singing, dancing and sailing.

Which Arthur found so likable, versus how Francis knew how to cook – all by himself – he could sing in French, dance, and he was learning to play flute next summer. He already knew basic tunes on piano, and he had French fashion!

What did Antonio come to school in? Why a loose, cream colored shirt that nearly to his knees, and loose-fitting dark red pants. He liked to wear these black work-boots, when he was inside, but run around barefoot outside. Because 'feeling the dirt on your feet is muy bueno~'

Arthur had seen Antonio do this, and had copied him. They had run like two hooligans, all play hour, kicking a stupid white ball around, barefoot and getting dirty. Francis got in trouble, if he got any dirt on his clothes, that looked he might have been playing in the dirt. Dirt-playing is unbecoming of a true French gentleman, his father said.

Francis sniffed, but he totally wasn't crying because his best friend left him for some Spanish bozo. Nope, that totally wasn't it. It was because Ivan had blown a bubble near him, and Alfred had popped it in his face. Yup, that was it.

Thinking that his perfect excuse for the weak streaks beginning over his cheeks, Francis took out a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his face again. Alfred tripped and fell over a rock, and nearly started crying, because he had gotten a mean-looking scratch on the underside of his chin.

But then came Ivan to the rescue. The Russian boy had tossed the bubble container aside, near Francis actually, with the cap on tight, and was already helping the American boy to his feet. The Russian was apologizing for something that wasn't even his fault, and kissing the other's tears away.

Francis instantly felt jealous. No one ever seemed to care if he was hurting anymore. The girls weren't any fun anymore, the older kids still picked on him for dressing better, and Arthur was always with Antonio. Alfred and Ivan were too full of each other to even notice he had been there the entire team.

Francis even knew the reason, why Alfred fell. The American idiot hadn't tied his shoe again, and had stepped on a lace, only to come tumbling down on a rock. It was something like him to do, and it was something like Ivan to do, by coming to his rescue.

Francis sighed, as he cupped his face within his hands. His little purple bangle bracelets clattered about, as he dared to look over to see what unforgiveable act that Antonio was committing against his –err, his old best friend, Arthur.

He felt his eyes sting, as he bit down on his tongue to keep from saying anything 'unbecoming of a French gentleman'.

Antonio was kissing Arthur's hand.

Francis suddenly stood from the grass, saying, "I'm going to go read inside or something. This hot weather is making my hair fizzy. My mommy won't like that." Ivan looked up from his fingers, from whence he had been counting the seconds gone by. Alfred looked over from the rock, he had been in a heated staring contest with, and raised a brow.

"Your hair looks fine, dude," Alfred said, and tried to go back to staring at the rock. Ivan took the rock from him, and gave him a look that said to care more. Alfred huffed, as Ivan kept the rock and said to Francis, "Are you sure you want to go inside? It's a really nice day, I'm sure your mother will understand, if you say you were trying for a brown?"

Francis blinked, and Alfred corrected the Russian boy, "Tan." Ivan tried to undo his failed attempt at consolation. "I'm sure your mother will understand, if you said you were trying for a tan?" When Alfred nodded, saying the other had made some better sense, Ivan smiled. Francis watched the exchange, and felt even lonelier.

He and Arthur used to bicker back and forth over everything. Their usual argumentative banters included from: popular shoes and boots in Europe, to food, to even the best crayons to draw with. But Arthur didn't talk with him anymore; because he had Antonio to talk to. The Spanish boy always seemed to agree with what Arthur had to say. He never really argued, unless they were playing that stupid boat game.

Francis decided then and there, he hated boats. Period. "Non, no, thank you," Francis said, politely. He brushed the invisible dirt from his person and walked away. His little form disappeared, albeit sadly, into the building. Ivan felt some sadness for his best friend, but his sadness didn't last long, as he realized that Alfred was back to staring at the rock.

Ivan checked his hand; realized that he was holding an orange rock in its place…instead of the grey one he had initially taken from Alfred. He rounded on the American boy, "You are so funny, Fredka. Just for that, I'm not counting the first ten seconds."

Alfred looked up, face expressing the kicked puppy look, as he begun, "Ah come on, Vanya! It's not even that bad, I was already on second eight, I think!"

"Da, yes, well –" Ivan tried to begin, when he heard the sound of arguments going on across the yard. Both Alfred and Ivan turned, along with a few other children, turned to see Arthur and Antonio on their feet and yelling at each other.

"You broke it," Arthur cried out, as he kneeled in the dirt. He looked like he was pawing for something, as he continued to snap at the Spanish boy putting his hands on his hips. "You ninny!"

"I said, lo siento," Antonio counteracted, glaring down at the English boy, who finally found what he had been looking for. "I said that I was sorry!"

"I got this from my best friend!" Arthur snapped, as he held up a green and gold fairy-tale themed charm bracelet. The clip holding the two ends together was broken, it was easy to fix, but Arthur couldn't find the end piece to do so. And Antonio wasn't helping in the matter. "Say you're sorry!"

"Fine!" Antonio spat, throwing up his hands. Green eyes were starting to grow more livid, with each minute, as the Spanish boy crossed his arms and glared, as he ground out the words, "Lo siento."

"I don't know Spanish!" Arthur stomped his foot, and Antonio huffed. He was shaking his head, as he knelt to gather his boat and toy soldiers acting as sailors. He was done playing pirates for today. Arthur was being a meanie over a bracelet_. He was such a girl_, he thought.

"Learn it!" Antonio huffed, as he was about to storm off, and go for the angry visitor now chatting up the other female teachers. That teacher had a tomato on his shirt, he must be cool. Was he Spanish? Antonio didn't know anyone, besides himself, that liked tomatoes enough to wear them on their clothes to school.

"No!" Arthur cried, indignant. "I don't want to learn Spanish. No, no, no!"

"Si," Antonio said, "yes!" He threw a dark look over his shoulder to Arthur. Said English boy stood, undeterred, and if fact, even angrier now that Antonio had dared to argue with him. _He was such a weird boy_, Antonio thought; _no wonder few of the other kids like him._

"No," Arthur said, holding the charm bracelet close, as if it was his motivation to pursue the argument. "Spanish is stupid!" This comment made Antonio angry. He happened to like Spanish very much; everyone back in his old school spoke Spanish. Spanish was a lot easier to learn than English, his mama had said so.

"You're stupid!" Antonio shouted, drawing the attention of a few more extra kids. The teachers couldn't hear that far away, from the slope of the hill. But from what they could see, all was still appearing well. When in reality, it was not.

"You take that back, you git!" Arthur shouted, fisting his hands at his hips. He was not stupid. Antonio was stupid, and he was a selfish meanie. He was always whining about something or another, and he kept complaining about how every single thing lacked passion. Arthur doubted that the other even knew what he was talking about. Antonio still had training pants. Arthur had seen that, when the other was trying to teach him to do a headstand and cartwheels.

"No, you are stupid!" Antonio said, as he continued to mock the other by repeating the word. "Stupid – stupid – stupid, you es idioto!" The other boy narrowed his green eyes, letting green orbs match in livid. "Your ships are stupid too, who needs blue on a ship anyways? The ocean is already azul!"

"Shut up," Arthur tried to argue, but he was getting really tired of Antonio saying that he didn't like the color blue. That was one of Arthur's favorite colors, and it was part of the UK's flag, not necessarily England's, but the UK, which had pretty much held his whole family. "No one asked you. No one likes yellow!"

"The sun does!" Antonio barked, as he pointed upwards to said beaming orb. The sun chose to remain silent, apparently not wanting to get dragged into the argument. But the two boys on the sandbox weren't done arguing yet. Arthur decided to play one of his favorite trump cards.

"The sun is gold, ninny," Arthur said, sarcastically. He points up too, and says, "Yellow is uglier than gold. Yellow is on Spain's flag, that's why the gold ran away from Spain and went to England." The English boy thinks he is so smart; he had read some of his older brother's books for school and read some of it. Albeit, he couldn't read of it, because some of the words are new and hard, and plus, his mother got mad at him fro snooping in their stuff when she caught him with the dictionary.

"Nuh-uh," Antonio defended, "Spain makes a lot of money. At least, it isn't some stupid island."

"Uh-huh, and? Look at it, all my big brothers say so." Arthur says cockily, and then adds with some anger, "And so what if England is an island? We're the best island ever!"

"Y, and? So? I bet your brothers are stupid too!" Antonio snaps, and then adds, "And if England is so great, why is America stronger than it now, then huh?"

"How dare you!" *Arthur tackled Antonio, knocking them both back. The Spanish boy takes the fall, but he rolls them over, and takes ahold of Arthur's hair and pulls. Arthur tries to hold back cries of pain, and kicks Antonio in the stomach and smirks as he hears some grunts.

But before they could go further, after Antonio slaps Arthur across the face and Arthur bites the other's arm, both are tugged apart. The other kids disperse, before the teachers can call their parents. Ivan is holding Antonio, rather firmly, and frowning deeply.

Alfred is holding Arthur, like one does a large teddy bear, while the fighters catch their breath. Antonio had a slight bruise on his hand, and Arthur's cheek is getting to be swollen and red. Both of them have sand on them, and Ivan and Alfred help to brush them off.

"I don't want to be your friend, anymore!" Arthur says first, and Antonio to reply with, "Likewise, ex-amigo!" An intense glare is shared between them, to which Alfred and Ivan add greater distance between the two to keep them from fighting again.

"Good-bye," Arthur said, vehemently, "you Spanish traitor." He sticks up his nose, and pretends to find more interest in combing his fingers through his hair, then looking at the boy he had just previously fought. Arthur feels some guilt in fighting Antonio, the broken clip might have been an accident, but he was too proud to admit he was wrong. Especially after a fight.

"Adios," Antonio growls out, as he wrinkles his nose, "you spoiled English niño." The Spanish boy turns away, as if he feels a type a way that means that Arthur shouldn't be graced with the sight of his face. He is pouting. He doesn't much like being called a traitor. He doesn't like fighting.

Faces scratched and dirty, eyes either watering from sand or from unshed tears, both boys tried to keep their heads held high as they stomped off to their other circle of friends. Antonio went over to the older kids, because they liked him because he was "an airhead" as Arthur said, but "muy awesome" as Antonio said he quoted from one of the upper kids.

Arthur didn't believe they said that, and since Antonio was being a big meanie, then Arthur didn't have to talk to him anymore. He didn't have to listen to Antonio brag about already being bilingual, whatever that meant, since he spoke Spanish first.

Arthur wiped his face, and picked up his broken charm bracelet. To those around him, he looked sad, and they are right – he is sad. He missed his real best friend. He only hung out with Antonio, because his mother had made him, because his family was new to the neighborhood, and Arthur had seen the other boy playing soccer.

The only reason they kept playing with each other after that was because Antonio had a lot of cool toys. He played with ships, too, and since Arthur liked to think he was better, because he came from an island, he had played with him. But really, Antonio was boring to him. He didn't argue with him, he just pretty much agreed with him on everything. Arthur missed how Francis would always boast and defend his new stuff.

Arthur missed his real best friend. The English boy looked at Ivan and Alfred, and stammered to ask, "Um, I-is Francis mad at me for not talking to him?"

Just as Alfred made to open his mouth, Ivan covered it and said, "He said he was going inside, because he was hot and that he was bored with flirting with the other girls, without his Great British friend."

Arthur didn't even hear the word 'flirt', just that Ivan said that Francis missed him. The English boy was already smiling, and taking off in the direction of their classroom. His fight with Antonio was already forgotten. His best friend had missed him. That was all that mattered.

"I'm coming, frog," Arthur shouted, as he shot across the yard. Ivan watched him go, smiling. He looked over to his side, and found himself blinking. Alfred had somehow gotten the rock yet again, without his noticing…

"What the pure motherland?" Ivan blurted, and Alfred looked up and blurted something of his own. "Wait, what?"

Ivan shook his head, and said, "You're a strange one, Fredka." Alfred shrugged off the comment, and randomly grinned, "Hey, are you still coming by, today? Mattie's not sick this time."

Ivan smiled, as he replied, "Gladly. We'll finally teach you to tie your shoes."

Alfred's nose wrinkled, "It better involve SpongeBob." His remark made Ivan laugh, and that laugh made Alfred laugh, before long, they were both wiping their eyes and muffling giggles as the teachers ushered all the other kids inside.

But Ivan didn't let the slight happy moment dissuade him from the imminent threat that could take place here. he gripped Alfred's hand, not tight enough for the other to comment on it hurting or even notice it, but rather enough for him to be assured that Alfred was still there.

He wouldn't let another child take what he had claimed as his.

_I won't anyone steal him from my side._

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**-END CHAPTER-**

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If you didn't enjoy this chapter, for whatever reason, please don't kill me! Did everyone like the jealousy that Francis/France was having for Antonio/Spain? I was laughing so hard, because I've been there! (Don't tell me you never wanted to put gum in the kid's hair who stole your best friend.) I wish I could hug him…

And then, how Ivan had knew all along, and was going: '_Bitch, I dare somebody to take my man. Imma open a can of Chuck-Norris-Will-Whoop-Dat-Ass on them_. **SMH**' XD (Ghetto moment) Don't say that aloud. I'm sorry. I'm retarded. XDD

I'm high off pain meds, since I messed up my hand, going **UP** the stairs. My face was saved by my Ukraine-ness, but my hand felt the railing/banister/some shit. Thus: (Me) "_OH-MY-FUCKING-SHIT_, IT FUCKING _**HUUUUUURTS**_! MOMMY! MOOOMMMMY!"

Yeah…I'm retarded. Who falls **UP** the stairs, besides me? (I'm not even blonde.) v.v

Any questions? Comments? Leave it in a review and make me have a smile for my day~

~Bai-Marionette

**Reviewers get to bake cookies with the Bragniski family~**

**Ivan: **We don't bite…much. ;)

**READ AND ****REVIEW****!**

**FUN FACT**: [A myth within a myth: Russians believe that Americans believe that bears walk the streets in Moscow, but this myth of a myth is a purely Russian invention. Americans actually believe all the bears in Russia are dead.] (Pfft, I thought Winnie the Pooh was a Russian bear, from his accent, when I was little.)


	7. Devil Children

**My Friend, For Eternity**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Children!AU He didn't know he had made friends with the very son of the Devil. All he knew was that he finally had a friend. Finally, a friend that wouldn't leave him, no matter what he did…He finally had someone. RusAme

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

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**Wow, you all remembered Jim, again, yeah~ **

**Wait, what?**

**Anyways, guess what? Too late, shut up: We gots a FLASHBACK OF HI-ST-ORY this chapter. OH YEAH! *Kool-Aid guy in background, busting through wall* (…I'm bored, let me be.)**

**I bet any one who's an old crone like me remembers the good ol' days of DODGE BALL. (Random reminiscence, I know…) Yeah…balls are flying and kids are flying through the air to do some epic kick into the other team's captain's face and cheering.**

**Yeah…The good ol' days…where gym was the highlight of a kid's day, not its shadow or sweat pit.**

…**Or maybe, that was just me who had gone crazy on the field. Either way, we have a FLASHBACK OF HISTORY and a small KICK BALL GAME this chapter. We get to see some demonic advantages in this. Some RusAme, as well, because who am I to deny such adorable flavor~?**

**This update is brought to you by: 91RedRoses. :)**

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**Thank you all for waiting oh-so patiently~**

**So, as my only real way of thanking you all for your patience — **

**I present to you: **Chapter Seven** of "**_My Friend, for Eternity_**"! **

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**.:Chapter Seven:.**

_Devil Children_

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"I said, _no_," the voice of Winter carried well into the living room of the Bragniski home, despite how he had meant to whisper it. "Nyet, you are not welcome here, Anya. I don't want to have this conversation again."

Ivan continued to put his pencil to the paper in his hand. He was supposed to be doing his homework for school, but the words of his father were distracting him. Anya: that was his sister's biological mother's name. Somewhere, deep within him, he felt something stir. He loathed his that woman with a passion, only a peasant can have for a tyrant.

* * *

_Anya was a spoiled brat, had been born so into royalty in her family. She had been the only girl in their family, and her family made it known to her nearly moment she had been on the face of the Earth. She had gone around, and done as she pleased. Slaughtering as many as she wanted, not caring, knowing someone in her family would point the finger to some innocent bystander with a faux story but clouding the officers with glamour so that they believed it._

_She thought she was what every male demon could ever want. She was a slim sunshine blonde with a convincing smile and alluring sapphire eyes. Her skin was radiant, and her hair held doll-like curls. Her assets were generous and plenty, but with the way she carried herself, it was thought she had more. She loved to flaunt the latest fashions of Europe, and was always invited to a party. She thought the world of Moscow revolved around her._

_Everything and everyone in Moscow, she believed, wanted to belong to or have her…except that is, Winter._

_But when he met Anya, no one in her family was able to sway him to marry her. No matter of power made his head turn, any jewels or gold. Winter did not love Anya, nor found any reason to. Anya became enraged, and cast him off as her conquest…well, that is until Winter was seen in her area once more, trying to court Katyusha and Ivan's mother, Fey. _

_Fey was a simple demon, from a small family in the country, not born into royalty as Winter or Anya. She had no extraordinary beauty: being a pale blonde, in hair and skin, with mahogany eyes and a dozen freckles on her face. She was bit wider and buster than most, but carried herself like an old woman. She hid herself away much of the time, and tended to have better relations with animals rather than other demons or even manipulative humans._

_She was also simple in nearly every word, but power. She was powerful, but she never cared to show off as Anya did. She had a level head, contrarily to Anya, and she was wiser beyond her years. Anya was often spoken as "childish" and "irrational". _

_Upon seeing Winter with Fey, Anya threw a temper, and nearly devastated an entire city with her anger. She swore she would be swayed or consoled by anyone. But some tried…and died, as a result of their bravery to stand against her._

_Fey looked to have been warming up to Winter and becoming friendly, whereas she had once avoided him, and it was then that Anya had had enough. She waited patiently, keeping up a faux routine of flirting but not fixating her sights on other males. No one was good enough for her. She wanted Winter. Winter loved Fey._

_Anya wanted Fey gone, so she did away with the threat. She had her family call upon Fey to leave. Wherever she went, it did not matter, but she had to leave. Fey left, and Winter become detached for a time, until he was called upon to court Anya by her family._

_Winter accepted. Anya tried to keep his affections; she threw parties to better know his associates, and did everything to get Winter to fall for her. The cold-spirited demon did…somewhat. It was enough, for Anya to become pregnant with Katyusha. However, things were already souring._

_Anya did not like children. She especially did not like Katyusha; she teased the child on being chubby, and having pale hair and her skin being too pudgy. As their daughter grew, Winter tried to make up for her mother's harsh words, by tending to her himself. _

_Katyusha wasn't much of a fighter, but she had one of the biggest hearts of the region, and loved to associate with others. People, demons and others all adored her, from her beauty and kindness to her sense of tolerance with others, humans included._

_Anya did not like this. She thought her spotlight was being stolen away, so what did the selfish demon do? Why, give Winter a son of course. _

_Unfortunately, the son, turned out to be a sickly one in infancy. The baby couldn't tolerate food in most cases, until he matured and began to feed on his own. However, it caught ill, and soon died before the age of three. Anya cursed Winter for her son's death._

_No longer did the sight of a smile on Winter's face, with the two children she had once had to brag about, led her to put up a face that she loved them._

_She threatened to leave Winter, and the demon told her that she didn't have to; that he would leave instead. Which he did, and in response, Anya apologized feverishly and futilely as she did everything in her power to thwart his attempts of success. She swore she would kill him if she left her._

_Winter left anyways, taking Katyusha with him, to Siberia. Winter broke off his ties to Anya and left her. He took their only child to survive infancy, despite her family's wishes, and followed on instinct to the icy cold tundra of Siberia._

_Where he found Fey again. As it had turned out, she had decided to halfway listen to the demon authority's orders and leave publicly, but not the total country. She claimed to have been living there, for a long time, waiting for Winter._

_Winter was more than overjoyed to court her once more, her accepting and giving him the health son of Ivan. Fey adored Katyusha, and when Katyusha took to calling her "Mother", no one corrected her. No one even tried. Fey was a good mother, better than Anya could have ever tried to be. She raised Ivan and Katyusha well in Siberia, and their family was secure._

…_Until, Anya found out about it. _

_The brat had informant scourging everywhere for Winter, so that she could drag him back, so in an effort to throw her off: Fey told her children to drop Slavic and Speak Russian like the people in the city did. Though confused as to why, since they were children, they did as they were told._

_This threw off the informants for a while, until the Romanovs fell and Winter decided that it was best to hid further in the country. He said that he felt there would trouble. He was right. Not long after they moved, humans were pointing out demons as the sources of problems and Romanov supporters._

_So many died during that time, and Anya was very nearly one of them. Somehow the beautiful demon managed to escape the madness, by escaping to Paris. She gave up her search for Winter for a time, until the purges stopped. They didn't stop, until Lenin came to power, and she moved back and tried to pursue Winter once more…but quickly came back, worse than ever, when Stalin came and sought out demons for his own interests._

_Anya did not step forward, but she had been nearly caught several times when she was feeding. Years past, leaders came and went; though they tried to live in St. Petersburg for a time, but the family missed their little home isolated from all, and moved back. _

_There, Winter and his family kept to their countryside home, all of them safe from every possible eye. Fey taught her children ways to blend in with the humans, with Winter's permission, and when they saw the chance, many years later: they simply vanished._

_They vanished to America, where they tried to learn English as quickly in the shadows, before coming forward with false papers to succeed in a new life…which brings the story to the here and now._

* * *

"Ivan?"

Said demonic child looked up, and saw his mother looking down on him, questioningly. "Is everything alright? You've been on that problem for some time, now, child…"

Ivan smiled, showing his baby teeth to her. "I am fine, Mother. I…" He paused, and then continued, without meeting her eyes, "I was just thinking."

His mother was quiet, and then she sighed, and made to sit on the floor with her son. "She can't take him from you, Ivan," she said in a tone that spoke of her wisdom. Ivan was quick to say, "What are you talking about, I—"

"Do not lie to me," Her words were verbal ice in the air, just waiting to strike down on the one who wronged them. Ivan was silent, and then he sighed. He looked at his mother, "Are you sure?"

"Da, I am," she replied. "She can't be that foolish, as to come all the way over here to play a sorry woman waiting redemption. Even if she did believe in it." Ivan made to laugh, finding it funny, until Winter entered the living room and said flatly: "I wouldn't be so quick to say so, my love."

"Please tell me," Fey began, "that you're joking."

Winter's face was stone, he blinked, and Ivan's pencil snapped in half, as he growled, "I vote we kill her."

Fey looked down at her son, "I'm not entirely against it."

"Ivan, dude!"

Said demonic child turned from where he had intently enjoying the remnant of his high from his early breakfast. He quickly pulled out a napkin to hide the red liquid dripping down his chin. He had been growing steadily greedier in his hunger, the past few years, but his parents said it was because he was finally aging.

He was finally aging, after so many years of being the same. He wondered about it, had dreamed about it, but this wasn't how he had pictured it. It sucked really. All he did was get hungry and sleep, feed and go back to sleep. There was nothing really exciting about it, at least, nothing he had found interesting just yet.

"Dude, how did you get here before me?" Alfred came upon asking, more or less shouting across the several yards, as soon as he within range, "If my house is closer to the bus stop?"

Ivan barely winced at the loud voice, and just shrugged, "I leave early." He smiled, as he continued, "I could come by and get you, if that's what you want."

Alfred stuck out his tongue, showing off the place where he had bitten it a few days ago at dinner, the reason being that he had been eating too fast. He had thrown a fit that whole night, and had complained and showed off the bite mark all day at school. Ivan had been somewhat impressed, so much so, he asked if Alfred had either sharper teeth or a strong jaw.

Alfred asked what was the difference, and thus Ivan had said it was nothing, and told him to forget about it. Although he watched when Alfred opened his mouth the next time, and saw how Alfred had another loose tooth and it messed up how he would close his mouth.

"Heroes lead others, not get led," Alfred defended, as he laughed. Ivan nodded, pretending to take the information to heart, while storing that away for future reference. He would find a way to tease Alfred about this later, maybe make him "lead" their group to the girl's side of the playroom on a dare. Alfred claimed that all the girls had been infested with "cooties" and should be removed from the playroom and put in quarantine.

When asked where he learned the word, he declared: "I heard it on TV."

"Fine then," Ivan replied to Alfred, "Let me know, if you change your mind. It would be no problem at all." Alfred waved off the other's words, and then sprung into a pretty much one-sided and energetic bout of chit-chat. He talked about Mathew's recent weight gain of two pounds, and then how he got sick and lost it. How his dad was forgotten family night Fridays two weeks in a row, and how he was going to need to sleep over at Ivan's to finish his homework.

"See," he began to explain, "I could do it, but I need…Like someone to keep me on track, so I keep doing it, you know?"

Ivan chuckled, "Social studies, again?"

Alfred nodded, "I don't see why I need to know where other countries are, if I'm gonna stay in my own country." He scoffed, "Or why the other countries can't just follow our map. America is awesome."

Ivan just smiled, as he said, "Russia doesn't use your map."

"Russia is an exception. You said they have the most McDonald's." At the mention of the greasy food establishment, Ivan's stomach churned and his face lost some of its color. "Yes, well…it does."

"So," Alfred began again, grinning and totally missing how Ivan looked disgusted with just the name alone, "Russia can be cool and whatnot, and America will be forever a…that word, we learned yesterday."

"Democracy," Ivan supplied,

"I thought it was a public?" Alfred said, and Ivan frowned, "You mean a republic."

"I'm not redoing anything…" Alfred said, scratching his head in confusion, and Ivan grew steading more confused. "What?"

"I said that I'm not—"

"Oui!" Francis called out in the morning, "I am here!" Both Alfred and Ivan turned from the beginnings of their semi-regular miniature political debates, and turned to see Arthur yawning after a skipping Francis. The French boy had on a pink coat with black swirls, and a hat with the word 'Prince Charming' on it.

Arthur had no hat, but he had a wool coat and a green scarf. He yawned again, and bit into something in his hand. It was a piece of black burnt toast with some kind of light-colored spread. Francis said something to him, but at the distance, Alfred couldn't hear it. Ivan could and heard it as "How are you eating that?"

Arthur just continued chewing, and then Ivan caught him saying, "If I want frog legs, then it's my business." Francis made a face of horror, and then ran away, crying, "He wants to eat me! The English are cannibals!"

Arthur allowed himself a smile, and took another bite of his 'toast'. Alfred greeted the French boy with open arms, literally, while Ivan settled for a wave. Arthur came on his own time, and Alfred ran to hug him too, even though the shorter snapped at him not to bother him while he was eating.

"Dude, it's burnt," Alfred started, giving the piece of burnt 'toast' a raised brow, "let it go. I'll share my lunch with you, anyways."

Arthur scoffed, and then finished his 'toast.' He wiped his mouth, with a handkerchief from his pocket, and then said, "I'll do no such thing. You always bring in junk food and that weird juice box."

"Don't hate, appreciate," Alfred mocked, as he stuck his hands on his hips. Arthur snapped at him, "You don't even know what that means!"

"I don't have to know what it means," Alfred grinned, "I'm American!"

"Is that so?" Arthur countered, "Well, I'm British and an Englishman, top that, you git!"

"Yeah, well—"

"Should we stop them?" Francis asked, from where he stood beside Ivan. He looked slightly upwards to look the Russian boy in the face. Ivan smiled, as he shook his head, "I am not. This is funny, like cartoons but real."

"You're right," Francis agreed, enjoying the show. "This is kind of funny."

"America totally kicked England's butt!"

"America was a colony!"

"For like, a few years, and then we said 'deuces'!"

"That's not even a real word!"

"It's an American word!"

"Is not!"

"Is!"

Such banter of arguing over trivial matters between the English and American cultures continued, until the school bus arrived to pick them up. To which, Alfred made it a point to shout, "Oh yeah! US of A for the win, I totally got on first!"

His retort was shouted over by the Polish kid, Feliks' shout of, "Like, shut the freak up! I am trying to talk to Liet!" Said little Lithuanian looked apologetically over Feliks' shoulder, and said, "Um, you're fine, Alfred…just find a seat, please. Hi Ivan, Arthur, and Francis; it's nice to see you all."

Ivan nodded in respect and waved, before sitting in place with Alfred who had already thought up a new conversation. Arthur huffed as he sat down, when Francis slid in place beside him and pulled out an iced pastry, kept warm by keeping it in an insulated pocket in his coat.

Arthur rounded on him, "You can't eat that, it's against the rules to eat stuff on the school bus. The sign says so." He pointed to the sign, while Alfred and Ivan had another conversation on soccer.

Mostly consistently of Alfred's "Why can't the world just accept that American football is more awesome than soccer?" and Ivan's replies of "Not everyone in the world likes rugby, Fredka" to Alfred's reply of "I don't even know what that is" and Ivan thus taking wasted precious minutes to explain only for Alfred to interrupt him and go onto another topic.

Francis looked at the sign; waving it with his hand, a haughty air and a smirk, "So what?" He began, "Are you going to snitch on your best friend?"

Arthur made a look of being thoughtful, like he might actually raise his hand and get Francis in trouble, and the French boy did what any boy would do in his situation. He broke off a piece of the pastry, as Arthur turned to raise his hand, and then popped it into the English boy's mouth.

It had been a moment of distraction, Francis's moment of deliverance, and he used it to his fullest advantage.

"Oh nah!"

Francis turned from Arthur's rosy and food-induced blissful face, as he chewed at creamy berries and soft, flaky pastry baked dough and delicate icing. Alfred was turned around in his seat, the way that against the rules because he wasn't facing the front, and glaring at the pastry in Francis' hand. "You better share, hoarder!"

Ivan rolled his eyes, and then added, albeit more politely than Alfred, "Please, comrade? From where I am, it smells delicious~"

Francis smiled, and then looked down at his breakfast. His mother had made a big one for him, saying he could indulge in treats like these, as much as he liked. "Oui," he said, "I can share."

With that, Alfred's sky-blue eyes widened with joy, as Ivan nodded, beaming, with a closed mouth. "Oh yeah," the American boy cheered, "free food! It's like a dream or something, but real!"

Arthur allowed himself a laugh, "It's really good, considering it's frog-made." Francis beamed at the compliment, despite the insult intended, as he handed pieces to Ivan and Alfred. Ivan sniffed his first, not picking up anything dangerous, and then took a bite as Alfred swallowed his whole.

It was like…_WHOA._ A mere moment after the pastry bit was gone from his fingers; Ivan blinked and made a face. His mouth quirked, his eye twitched, but he didn't throw up. He didn't have to throw up, really. It was of a more peculiar sensation. He just felt really, really weird. Like…he could run around for hours in nothing more than a circle, and still have bounds of energy.

"Buddy?" Alfred asked, looking a bit worried at his friend, "Are you okay?" Francis was trying to keep Arthur from eating the rest of his pastry, and their struggling was turning into an argument, which everyone pretty much ignored. Those things were mostly routine by now.

Ivan nodded, "Da…"

"Are you sure?" Alfred asked, raising a brow, as he spared a glance when Arthur tried calling fro his help, when Francis was threatening to kiss away the frosting lingering on his face. The American laughed, and Ivan turned and giggled, and they both turned around despite how Arthur said he was going to curse them when he got away.

"I'm fine," Ivan said, trying to fit his words carefully. His teeth felt so much sharper, all of a sudden. His stomach made a movement in him, and then he felt an emptying sensation go through him. That was a bad sign. He needed something to eat.

Again.

"Just checking," Alfred said, and then he went on tot say, "Do you remember that day when Shatanquia tried to come all up on me, on the playground, because she said I stole her markers?"

Ivan listened patiently, or rather just waited for Alfred to continue on with his rant, "And then she had the nerve to get all loud with me, like what the heck? I did nothing to her! It wasn't even me, who had them, but whose face was she in?" Alfred pointed to himself, and made a face of exasperation. "She had them all along, but they were in the second cubby that she claimed for herself with her greedy self."

Alfred huffed, and Ivan started to speak, saying, "That is unfortunate…" When he suddenly stopped himself. Not only did he not sound like a child, but the lisp on his words was highly obvious. It was more evidence that he needed something fast to rid himself of his hunger momentarily, because he didn't think he could pass this off as a Russian accent—

"Oh my God!" Ivan turned at Alfred's words of shock. He already had several excuses: "I can explain", "What did you say?" "It's nothing" "there's a McDonald's outside" and "I saw a hero sticker on the floor again".

"Was that your Russian accent?" Alfred asked, grinning from seemingly ear to ear, with big and puppy dolled eyes. "Was it? Can you do it again? _Please_~"

Ivan blinked. So much for human intelligence, at least as far as Alfred's current mind was concerned. Maybe Ivan could wing this. "Da, yes," he said, careful to make sure his teeth were not clearly seen to be the dangerous tools of murder that they were. "It is, do you like it or something?"

Alfred was nodding, smiling, "Dude, it's awesome! You sound like that killer snake I saw on TV, last weekend!" Ivan's face pained to hold its smile. _A snake_, he thought, _he thinks my voice is like a snake's?_

"Dudes," Alfred jumped up to find Francis being pretty much pinned by his English companion, for stealing a fairy-orientated spiral notebook full of nothing but pictures and short stories by Arthur. "Like stop trying to make out for a sec, and see Ivan's cool accent!"

Francis turned, momentarily distracted, to which Arthur whacked him good upside the head and stole his spiral back to replace it back into his bag. While the English boy huffed, and the French boy whined about his sore head, Alfred said, "Show 'em, dude!"

Ivan three pairs of him, two different shades of blue and one that was a pretty shade of green, thus he said, "Um…I find all of this attention, just for my accent, weird…"

"Wow…" Francis said, having heard the lisp. "So, that's what Russians sound like."

"Interesting," Arthur said, trying to rub his chin to look like he knew something. "Where are you from again? Where in Russia?"

"Siberia," Ivan answered easily. He really hoped that people still lived there. His excuse would fall like a pile of bricks on sheet of paper, if they didn't.

"Ah," Arthur replied, and thus he turned to Alfred and said, with a straight face, "Have fun with your Siberian boyfriend. This is my stop." Just as he said that, Ivan's face reddened considerably, as Alfred's jaw dropped.

Arthur smirked, taking Francis' hand, all but pulling up and straight, as they exited the bus.

Alfred stammered, face determined, "Oh it is on…." Ivan blinked once more, and hoped that Alfred was talking about his common sense. Fighting with Arthur, even arguing, didn't tend to end well for his opponent.

Then again, as he smiled with his lips closed and took his stuff to file behind Alfred off the bus, this might be fun. Yes, he thought, as Alfred went on "battle strategies to get the Brit to understand how American and Russians rolled", this would be very fun, indeed.

It was Thursday. That meant that today was Gym Day with Mr. Køhler.

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**Gym Class**

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"Ve, alright, class," Mr. Vargas said, with the stack of papers in his arms to grade. "I'll turn the class over to Mr. Køhler, so you guys can get all sporty and stuff~"

The Italian teacher smiled and beamed, as he all but floated on his way to his desk, where a serious-faced blonde male shook his head. "Ve, it's okay, Luddy, Mr. Køhler promised not to break the windows this time!"

The blonde's head met the desk surface with a sound _thud._

Ivan smiled at the teacher. He and the teacher had a silent understanding. The older male's teeth were a big hint, as to his species. The fact that he showed them off in his ID photo and in everywhere else was also a hint. The other said the key to his excuse was his Danish heritage.

It didn't explain his exuberance or anything to do with his spirit, however.

"A-okay, runts," Mr. Køhler boomed, walking in front of the classroom. "Today, I'm going to whip you all back into shape, same as every Thursday. This should be routine for you all, now, am I right?"

The class nodded, and responded with a chorus of yeses. The gym teacher nodded, grinned and then dropped the sack he had been carried, "Well, since it's routine…then, I guess you guys won't mind if we," he dug into his bag and pulled out a small round red ball, "If we play a few games of kickball to show off our training?"

The class went into a euphotic uproar.

He grinned, blue eyes gleaming, and darkening just briefly, "Let's play ball!"

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**On the Field**

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Mr. Køhler had the class line up, and then march outside to the school field. He was grinning, as he had them against the fence in the ball-park area of the area, and then shouted, "Arthur…and Alfred, your both team captains!" Both boys looked to each other and grinned, running up. "Pick your teams, boys, pick wisely."

Alfred won by a coin flip, which Arthur claimed was biased, since it was an American coin, until Mr. Køhler proved it to be a Danish unit of money. Arthur had nothing to say. But he pouted, oh how he did pout…

"I pick Ivan!" Alfred shouted, beaming.

"I want Francis!" Arthur challenged, standing straight, and puffing his chest out to look bigger in his sweater vest and shorts.

Francis pranced over, dressed in somewhat of the same wear: a dark purple silk blouse with grey slacks. He had asked one of the girls to borrow a hair tie to pull his long hair in a ponytail….which he had copied onto Arthur's messy hair, to give the other "better eyesight, while looking fabulous" with a small roughly done bun at the back of his neck and lazy bangs pushed to the side.

"Hm," Alfred said, "I want Kiku!"

"Do you wish," Arthur said, trying to pretend not to care, as he shouted, "Yao! I choose you!" Said Chinese boy huffed up, smirking as he marched across the field. "We win this. We have to, with honor." He stood beside Francis, but looked across to Ivan, who was talking to Kiku on playing a game later, until Mr. Køhler asked them to hush up.

"Emma!" Alfred called out, and the shy Belgian girl cleared her throat and left her friends to beside Kiku. She waved timidly to him, and Kiku nodded respectfully. That was the end of whatever conversation there could ever be.

"I want…" Arthur began, but then stopped himself, and said without hesitation, "I want Vash to be on my team!" Said Swiss snapped to attention, and with a militant and disciplined air, marched to his assigned team. He didn't say a word.

"Heracles!" Alfred shouted, and the usually dozed boy blinked and walked over. He appeared to be awake, though his jade eyes were somewhat on the process of drooping. Obviously, Alfred had seen the Disney movie, and had though to connect the names…

This kept on, going on with Toris and Feliks being split up, Im going to join one of his so-called brothers, and the rest of the class splitting up to even out the teams. Mr. Køhler stepped to the front, and then boomed, "Alright, runts! I am the referee of this game and you will follow these rules: No hitting, no bad talk, no dirty tricks –Wake up, Heracles, up and at 'em! – and have fun!"

Feliks flipped his hair over his shoulder, with a slender hand as he used a hair tie that he snatched off Toris' wrist and said, "Whatever, Mr. K. I just gotta, like, kick a ball some way and then run in my new pink shoes to some, like, base and do…stuff. Riiiiiiight, okay."

With that, the team captains faced each other, and Mr. Køhler said that since Alfred had gotten to pick first, then Arthur had first dibs on where he wanted his team to go from there. Did he want to bat first or pitch?

Arthur smirked with nose high, as he looked at Alfred, looking back at him, "Bat." And so, it was decided. That was the first game, in which Alfred and Ivan and others didn't get a chance to play, so Arthur's team made a point. The next time, when Alfred's team went to pitch, they won, because they found out that Ivan threw good under hands.

But now, it was the last game, before the class had to go inside, and Arthur's team went to the fields and Alfred's team to the fence to line up to kick.

"I'm kicking first, as captain," Alfred announced to his team, this time, right as the game was about to start. "I know we can win this! All we have to do is – Heracles, dude, stay awake! – All we have to do is beat Arthur and the team he thinks is so all that and a big of gummy worms. We can do this! We are Team Pioneers!"

The children mindlessly cheered, until a soft voice asked what a pioneer was. Alfred sighed, and Ivan stepped forward. "If I may?" He asked, and Alfred gestured for him to continue. Ivan cleared his throat as if he was about to give a powerful speech, and then began, "I promise chocolate chip cupcakes, if we win."

The response of that announcement was instantaneous: sheer-fucking-_cheers_. They knew what "cupcakes" were. Even Heracles looked more attentive. Alfred high-fived Ivan on his way back to him, and said, "Awesome, dude! They look really pumped! Are you serious about the cupcakes, though?"

Ivan nodded, "Da, yes. Mother has been looking for a reason to bring in treats to the class, for a while, now…"

"Total hotcake formula," Alfred said, making Ivan confused with the Southern American phrase. He turned back to Ivan, with a serious expression, "I get first dibs, right? This," he pointed to the both of them, "Russian-American union will not survive if my demands are not met."

Not knowing what else to say, without completely losing his composure, Ivan said, "Da…?"

"Good!" Alfred said, beaming. "I'm glad that we have an agreement. I have first dibs." He turned to the field, and then grinned, "I'm first. Peace!" He gave Ivan two fingers, to which Ivan thought the correct response was to wave and say: "Good luck!"

At least, he hoped that was the correct response…

Alfred stood at the home base, grinning, and bouncing from foot to foot. Arthur was pitching, and his face was flat. Francis was behind him, and smirking as he looked ready to run. Arthur grinned, and then reeled his arm back to deliver a fast curved ball that even a professional pitcher thought should be praised in a child. Arthur had a natural pitching arm.

Alfred met it head-on, running up and bringing up his foot to kick it over Arthur's head and send kids scrabbling to catch it. The American boy took off, laughing and enjoying the cheers that his team mates gave for him. He made it to second base, before Arthur nearly tagged on third and made him run back to stay in the game.

Arthur huffed, as he went back to the plate. Ivan was next. He licked his lips, as Ivan waved pleasantly enough, and then threw the first ball. Ivan caught it, and then called, "Got it!"

Mr. Køhler blinked. Arthur looked confused, while Francis sputtered on a laugh, and Alfred face-palmed. The gym teacher walked over and knelt to Ivan. "Ivan, kid, they throw it. You just kick it. They don't have this game back in Russia?"

Ivan shook his head, "Not that I remember..." The teacher nodded, and then flashed a shark-toothed grin, that made Ivan smile back. Mr. Køhler ruffled the Russian boy's hair, and then said, "Well, you get to play it now. Enjoy it; just do as I told you."

"Da, I can kick very well," Ivan said, and he tossed the ball as gently as he could back to Arthur. The British boy exhaled a minute to "compose his features" and then asked Ivan if he was ready. Ivan nodded. Arthur delivered the pitch. Ivan brought up his foot—

-And sent the ball back with a sound crack, which sent the foam toy over several children's heads.

Ivan began to run, not as fast as he could have, but as much as he was allowed, and shouted, "Run, Fredka!" The American boy didn't need to be told twice, after a few seconds to look back and blink and then all but dash to home plate as Arthur and several other of his team mates tried to chase him and Ivan down.

"Behind you!" Ivan called, and then took Alfred's hand to the other's complete shock, and all but propelled him forward. They touched home base at the same time.

Their team mates cheered, as Arthur gawked at how close he had been. Alfred and Ivan high-fived and the Russian shouted, "Chocolate chip cupcakes for everybody!"

Everyone on the field cheered, even Feliks. Francis laughed, and suggested to Ivan loudly to be sure he was heard, "Can me and mon amor have strawberry?"

Ivan smiled, as Alfred did some victory dance involving some version of the moonwalk behind him. "Da, sure, I don't see why not." Arthur allowed a small smile, even though his team hadn't come in first.

"Thank you, Ivan…That's nice of you to do," Arthur said, coming forward. Ivan laughed merrily, "We are all friends here, why hurt each other over a silly game?" As Mr. Køhler led the class back to the school grounds, Alfred and Ivan laughed with Arthur and Francis. Arthur talked about having a side hobby of being a cricket player, which led Alfred to put in to ask if Arthur was talking about the bug and an instrument.

Francis and Ivan enjoyed the feud that followed as Arthur and Alfred once more bantered on whose country was better. Meanwhile, Ivan felt something stir in him, felt his teeth ease along his gums, and felt the inane urge to just grin, as he looked around to the mass of people around him.

_All shall join us, __he thought, smiling__, when he by my side._

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**-END CHAPTER-**

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**OH YEAH! TEAM #RUSAME FOR THE WIN!**

**Lol, but oh yeah, look who's back, my little bitches! X)**

**ME~~~! :D**

ME! *Prussian stance*

Sorry, my flash drive got stolen, and I had to rewrite/use back what I have from what I've already uploaded to FFnet. Which is never even half of what I had on my flash drive. All my stuff was on that thing.

May the person who stole be tripped into a mud puddle full of bloodthirsty TELETUBBIES. *serious DERP face*

[Any one else get hungry, when I brought up the pastry from Francis? I just wanted to know if it was just me or is everyone else hungry, too? Oh yeah, I gots a ghetto moment in dis chapter. I hope you saw it, 'cuz I do wat I do, I be doin' wat I gotta do to make it in these streetz…and I'm going to stop trying to be ghetto, when I have no conception of how it is even done in the first place. XD]

…I put in a reference in this chapter. Whoever picks out the lines of my references, and the ghetto moment gets a reward of their choosing. You have to put your submission in a review. RET Z'ERE BE VAR AMONGST ZE FANS. XD

Any questions? Comments? Leave it in a review and make me have a smile for my day~

~Bai-Marionette

**Reviewers are rewarded with a chance to read Ivan Edgar Allen Poe to Ivan~**

**Ivan: **I love his murders. They inspire me. *Devil laugh*

**READ AND REVIEW!**

**FUN FACT**: [Russians drink tea with a centimeter of sugar on the bottom of the cup.] (They like it SWEET. I like that.)

*Rus: Actually, this was Russia's name, once upon a time. I like the name Rus. It sounds cool. "I hail from Rus!"

** If you want a better idea of what Anya and Fey look like: Anya is the fem!France and Fey is fem!Russia. Suck on that, society. #BOO_YAH


	8. Hero's Sidekick

**My Friend, For Eternity**

**Rating: **T

**Summary:** Children!AU He didn't know he had made friends with the very son of the Devil. All he knew was that he finally had a friend. Finally, a friend that wouldn't leave him, no matter what he did…He finally had someone. RusAme

_**BrooklynBabbii**_

* * *

**A/N: **BLAH BLAH-BALH BLAH BLAAAAAH LLAMA BLAH BLAH-BLAH. I AM ALIVE, AFTER SO LONG. OMIGOD, BASK IN MY REJUVENATION. I AM ALIIIIIIIIVE.

I BRING YOU AIR FROM MY CYBER LUNGS. BREATHE IT IN. YES. BREEEEEAAAATHHHHEEE MEEEEEE.

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**Thank you all for waiting oh-so patiently~**

**So, as my only real way of thanking you all for your patience — **

**I present to you: **Chapter Eight** of "**_My Friend, for Eternity_**"! **

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**.:Chapter Eight:.**

_Hero's Sidekick_

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Christmas was approaching and every child in the room could feel it. They were all chatting excitedly, and Mr. Vargas was going off about nothing but pasta and decorations and food and pasta and parties and did he mention pasta?

Francis was adorning himself in the holiday's colors, trying to fix the mistletoe in his hair. He spied Arthur reading to Alfred. Alfred had wide eyes, as Arthur made various hand gestures and eccentric motions to tell the story. Ivan was sharing a cookie with Alfred, also enjoying the story.

Now although Arthur couldn't completely read all the words on the pages, he was trying to boast a higher-grade level book after all, but he was able to read it. Well, most of it. He was using his best context clues, that was what Mr. Vargas had called them, and he was using them to his best advantage. He may not know every word, but with those 'context clues', he could figure it out. He was so going to brag about this, when he got home! He had read a big-kid book!

The English boy was so into his story-telling that he didn't notice Francis finally getting the Valentine-themed mistletoe arranged perfectly in his hair. The French boy smiled, eying all of his possible prey. Feliks was wearing a festive outfit, but he was crying about a piece of candy cane being stuck between the large gap in his front teeth. Toris was trying to help him, but he was crying too, thinking he wasn't doing it right; Mr. Vargas was now trying to get the candy piece out all the way out, from where Toris had left off.

But back on the carpet, Alfred was nibbling on his own candy cane as he pictured himself in the story, like he always did. He thought he was the awesome knight. And-but wait, he didn't have a princess. _Ah well_, he thought. He would put Ivan as the 'prince' instead, so that he could rescue the bigger boy and then be friends with royalty! That was even more awesome than rescuing some little whiny girl with cooties, only for her to make fun of his dirty shorts and pet rock.

_Yeah_, he thought, Ivan would make a good prince. He imagined the pale boy with an oversized golden crown that fell over his eyes and sat on his nose, and Ivan walking around like he was blind, because he couldn't see with the crown in front of his face. Then Alfred the Awesome Knight could save him!

As he imagined all of this, he was looking at the other boy engrossed in the story; he giggled, almost making Arthur lose his focus, before the English boy shushed him and continued on.

Meanwhile, Ivan was not imagining himself as a prince or a brave Knight. He was remembering his memories of being back in Russia, back when he and his family had lived closer to the city. Back when he had thought he known the only person outside of his family to willingly ever hold his hand and then demand him to be her friend. Anastasia Romanov.

"And so, once upon a time, in a land that no one can remember now, there was a lonely tower…"

* * *

_The princess huffed, crossing his arms. His sky-blue eyes were annoyed, but his baby-face said he was only pouting like the big baby that he was. "I should not be in this stupid tower. It's stupid!"_

_The talented and very powerful magician sighed, and snapped his fingers to make a big and yellow page book in his hands. With a small hand spin, a chair was magically brought so that he could sit down. The magician's feet did not meet the floor, he was a bit too small, but only a little bit, and he sat up straight just like a big kid would do. _

_He held up his book like a big kid too, and read all of the squiggly words with little hums. He turned a page, seeing the recipe for a spell for turning a prince or princess into an ugly frog. He looked at the still pouting princess now huffing and puffing to himself. _

_The magician wanted to think he could get away with turning the princess into a frog…But then again, if he did, his mum would spank him with her church shoes again. Just like that time he had taken some newt's eye, without asking for permission first. _

_The magician remembered his beating well, and fidgeted on his bottom in his chair a little. But not a whole lot, he was a strong magician. He wouldn't cry about it now. His bottom wasn't red anymore, so he had nothing to cry about. _

_He didn't want to cry in front of the princess anyways, he might tell the magician's older brothers. Then the older brothers would pick on him for being short and still being the baby of the family, and then taking his magic hat and holding it just out of his reach like the big jerky twats they were and -!_

_The magician's face was only a little pink. He huffed, and then closed his big book. He was getting a bit mad. The princess was right in his pouting for once. Trying to pat down his sparkly blue robe of any dirt, the powerful and talented magician walked to the window. He had to be on his tip-tippy-toes to even get his nose above the bottom, but he was big boy. He was tall enough to see out of the window, all by himself!_

"_Where is he?" The magician asked out loud. He thought the Knight would be here by now, to take the princess out of the tower, but he wasn't here yet! Why wasn't he? _

_Was he lazy? Did his horse get hungry, and did he have to ask the nice sprites for some magical sugars? Or was the Knight taking a nap, because he was really tired after riding for so long? How big was this land anyways…? The book does not say how big it is, and he didn't have a map either, because his big jerk brother, Angus, had taken it for his own trip._

"_How should I know?" The princess said, still pouting. He was pulling at the loose strings of his red T-shirt, and then taking off and putting back on his paper crown. There crayon drawings on it were actually spells to keep the princess nice and pretty, but the princess would never listen to the magician and used all the wrong colors. So the spell never worked. So the princess was cranky and mean, like right now, as if he hadn't gotten to drink his afternoon tea._

"_Oh wait," the magician said. He smiled. There was the knight! The magician was going to be free of the princess' whining now! He couldn't want to tell his mum, he would have to be able to sit at the big people now! He had helped a princess get a Knight! He was a big kid!_

_There came a few knocks downstairs, and the princess was already trying to get there before the magician. But it was okay, the magician couldn't get his robe dirty. The princess was wearing tennis shoes, anyways; no one would care about his dirty sneakers._

"_Hello? Hello?" The Knight said at the door. "Is anyone there? I am sorry that I am late, I got lost in the pyramids. But I bring presents!" The princess was already trying to get on his tip toes to undo the lock. When that was done, he tried to push the door open. It did not move. The magician saw this and tried to help. _

_He waved his hands, and chanted the magical words, "Ruby booty, tommy limey, cereal and milk, this door must open!" But nothing happened. The princess huffed. He could not even move the door in the slightest. _

"_Your magic sucks. You suck." The princess stuck his tongue, and the magician said, "Yeah, well, at least, my shirt isn't on backwards!"_

_The princess looked down, right as the talented and powerful magician did another spell: "Tooty-fruity, cherry Skittles, back-ah-ward-a shirt-ah!" A poof of purple smoke and the princess screamed. His shirt was on backwards!_

_The magician stuck out his tongue, and said, "Serves you right, you meanie."_

_The princess took off his shirt and threw it on the ground. He stomped on it. Then, he huffed and pouted, "That doesn't prove anything. Your magic couldn't even open the stupid door. Now, we'll never get out of here!"_

"_Why you little twat-!" Now the magician was mad. His magic did work! He had proved it did! The princess was cursed. So the magician did what any good magician would do. He cast a spell to put a sock in the princess's mouth. At least, now it was quiet and he could think about how to open the door._

_He went on his tip-tippy-toes, just like with the window, and then pulled instead of pushed. He pulled with all of his might. And the door magically opened. The Knight clapped his hands in joy at seeing the magician._

"_Yay, the magician opened the door!" The Knight said, but his little eye door slid down and what he said after that sounded weird and echo-y. The magician frowned, and opened the eye door again. Now he could hear the Knight better. "-Me and the princess can play games now! And eat cupcakes and –and candy, and do all kinds of fun stuff together!"_

_The magician huffed, as he put his hands on his hips. "But what about me? What do I do, while you guys have fun?" It wasn't fair. The magician could be in his garden, chasing sprites and having a tea party with his favorite magical friends. But no, he said he was going to help save a princess. And what did he get? A whiny princess and a Knight who didn't even bother to get him a present. Stupid twats, they were all stupid twats._

_The Knight blinked his big purple eyes, and then laughed at the magician. Then he said, "I brought you a fancy dragon, Mr. Magician! He's right here!" The Knight moved so that a chubby-faced dragon in a dress was seen. "Bonjour~"_

"_Eeck!" The magician screamed. The princess got the sock out of his mouth, and then walked outside, as the dragon came into the tower, uninvited. The shiny scaled beast blinked, and then smiled. "We're going to be good friends, oui?"_

"_No!" The magician said, and tried to fix his magical hat. He huffed. This dragon was stupid. They were not friends. The Knight was stupid. And the princess was a stupid twat for leaving him. Here was the talented and powerful magician, trying to save him, and the princess was already eating some of the Knight's offered cupcakes and ignoring him! The nerve! How mean! Maybe the magician wanted a cupcake. Maybe he didn't. _

"_I don't want to be your friend," the magician said, and trying to turn around to find something else to do, since the princess was a meanie and the Knight wasn't paying any attention to him. "You're a dragon. I'm a magician. We can't be friends."_

"_Says who?" The dragon said, pulling some ribbons from its hair. All of his hair fell in his face, to which he puffed his cheeks to blow away some. His head looked a mess. The magician giggled, and the dragon smiled. When the magician saw he had been tricked, he tried to be serious again. _

"_Says my magical book," the magician said. The dragon frowned, as he tied his hair up again. He asked to see the book. So the magician cast a spell to make it appear again. He showed the beast the page, and the wild creature read it for a long minute. He had to sound out a few words, and ask the magician for help a couple of times, but pretty soon, he could read the block of words on the page._

_When he had read everything, the dragon nodded and then blew fire at the book. The magician tried to save the book, and he did save most of it. But that page about magicians and dragons was gone. The blonde dragon in front of him was smiling. "See? I don't see anything saying we can't be friends, anymore, non? So we can be friends, now!"_

_The magician huffed, but said, "Fine, dragon. But if you eat my slippers, I will cast a spell to turn you- to turn you into something bad! Like a nasty bug!"_

_The dragon was scared, "Non! Anything but bugs! They always bite my feet, when I play in the sandbox!" The magician looked sad at that, and promised to cast a spell to keep the bugs off the dragon's feet if the dragon promised to give him some of his colorful ribbons._

"_Deal!" The dragon said, and then pointed to the princess and Knight a few steps away. "We can play with them, right?" The magician nodded, and the little group laughed and played together. They travelled the world as friends, scaring trolls and kissing pixies. The princess and the Knight were all but joined at the hip; the dragon and magician nearly the same, even though they sometimes didn't agree. But they were all friends, and no one could break them apart. Ever._

_The End._

* * *

Alfred clapped, his paper crown drooping over his eyes, as he cheered. "That was awesome! Tell it again!" The American boy was grinning. Ivan had drawn a paper sword, and even though it was wilting like paper should, he was proud of it. The Russian was swinging it around, as Alfred stood and tried to walk in small circles with his crown, giggling to himself.

"Yes, da, tell it again! Tell it again!" Ivan agreed, "I want to know what kind of boy the princess was! Does the book say if he is nice?" Alfred smirked, as he pronounced the prince to be just as awesome as he was, "For a prince, anyways," and then goes back to striking poses with his crown.

Ivan tried to look over the pages of the book, but Arthur held the book to his chest. Ivan blinked, and then read the cover aloud of the book, "Harry Potter? You can read Harry Potter?" Arthur's cheeks dusted. Would he have to tell the truth now? He couldn't read the actual book; he was only reading an author input of what she had originally thought of doing. The book was actually his older brother's, he had asked to read it, and even though his brother knew that he couldn't, he had still let him borrow it.

"I-" Arthur began to say, when he was taken from behind and sent to be thrown on my belly to the ground. Alfred tried to look over the crown over his eyes, just in time to catch Francis laughing as he gave sloppy kisses to Arthur's cheeks. The young Brit was throwing a fit, however, and was snatching hits whenever he could. Eventually, Francis made to get up and pecked both Alfred and Ivan on their cheeks before he ran away to seek other victims.

Arthur stubbornly wiped his cheeks, grumbling aloud about how much he hated when someone kissed him wrong. In response to his comment, Ivan asked, "So how do you know if someone kisses you right?"

Arthur sputtered and Alfred finally came into the conversation, grinning. He came closer to Arthur, clapping him on the shoulder, and enjoying the fact that he was slightly taller than the other. Arthur was trapped, as Ivan giggled and made to take Arthur's opposite side. In complete sync, and with only the small hint of cool fang and warm lips meeting his cheeks, Arthur found himself in a horrible blush. Alfred laughed, running away and stealing Ivan's hand as Arthur chased after them.

"No running!" Mr. Vargas shouted, and surprisingly his voice was firm and serious. The boys paused mid-sprint, until they were out of sight, and then became running again. They bumped into the several other student, all doing some form of work. However, all paused upon seeing the fierce hide-and-seek going on between Alfred and Ivan against Arthur.

"You are both the most evil buggers I have ever met," Arthur snapped as he tried to chase them around a table. Ivan would turn left, and Arthur would make to go that way, but then Alfred would giggle and go right, trying to avoid being captured. Thus, they were stuck. At least, Arthur was stuck in trying to get the other two.

"What's a bugger?" Alfred asked, still laughing, and barely dodging the crayon that Arthur threw at him from a nearby table. Ivan shrugged, giggling also, and said, "I do not know, maybe a bug? Are you calling us bugs, Arthur?"

Arthur's face flushed slightly, but he was still mad at the other two. On top of that, he was now insulted. Calling someone a 'bugger' did not mean he was calling them a 'bug'! How dare they-? And Arthur said so, "I'm not calling you a bug, you twats! Come over here, so I can get you!"

Alfred stuck out his tongue, shaking his head. Ivan waved a finger in saying no, and said, "I don't know what a twat is, but no. I like this mouse and cat game." He turned to his friend at his side, his heart going a bit faster as he did so. "Da, do you like this game too, Alfred?"

Alfred grinned; holding up his hand which Ivan readily gave back the high-five. It may have took some time for Ivan to realize that Alfred was not trying to hit his face, and even longer to learn that he was supposed to throw up his hand back. "Oh yeah, this game is awesome!"

Arthur was fuming at the other side of the table. It was not only because Ivan and Alfred wouldn't let him have his way, but also because he had just seen Francis going around with his mistletoe and kissing other children. He had even tried to kiss the teacher's hand!

As the Brit was mentally fuming, it was his friends whom he had been trying to chase that noticed the emotions displayed on his face. His lip wasn't quite quivering, but it stuck out in more than just a pout. His eyes were beginning to show signs of becoming wetter, and the way that Arthur was holding himself was not the way someone who is angry stands. Arthur looked sad.

Ivan nudged Alfred, who had been staring out the window at the snow covered ground, and looked to Arthur. After a brief moment, the American frowned and whispered, "What are you gonna do?"

Not even raising a brow as he answered and walked around the table, Ivan said, "We are going to get Francis. Simple as that." Looking back over his shoulder, he smiled. Alfred blinked and then grinned; he did a small fist-bump, and then ran over. Arthur had walked away, looking somewhat dejected as he went back their original reading circle and tried to clean up his book. He was picking up the fallen pieces of paper; when after a short while, someone cleared their throat behind him.

The Brit looked behind him to see Francis looking at his feet, and nudging the tip of his sequined red shoes into the carpet. "Uh, um, I was told by…um," the French boy looked back at Alfred and Ivan. Alfred smiled, and Ivan motioned his head for the pudgier blonde of the three to continue. "So I heard you missed me?"

Francis was trying to smile, and Arthur huffed. "I did not miss you," he said. Francis almost looked hurt for a short moment, as Alfred wondered if they had been wrong to bring Francis back, while Ivan simply watched quietly, knowingly. "I did not miss you," Arthur said again, but he wasn't looking at Francis, as he further said, "But I do not like it when you leave me for someone else. That's not fair. I was your friend first."

Alfred beamed, a little voice in his mind telling he had become a hero, as Francis beamed. Arthur was trying to hide his smile, when the French boy hugged him, but he was failing. Ivan crossed his arms behind his back, nodding. Alfred clapped, "Yay, they kissed and made up!"

Ivan face-palmed and Francis blinked. Arthur sputtered, "We did what? All I said I didn't like him going around and being with other people when he had me!"

"So you like him?" Alfred asked, feeling confused. The American scratched his head, and groaned, "This is confusing…! Do you want him or not?" Arthur continued to rant and stammer on various things, blaming the fairies and then on Francis' shoes, calling them girly. He made fun of Alfred's cowlick, and then Ivan's ever-present scarf. Finally, the Brit huffed and went to sit in the corner, crossing his arms and grumbling.

Francis smiled, "Well I like you, anyways, even if you don't like me." He took a seat next to the Brit, singing loudly and off tune to the My Little Pony theme song. After a few incorrect lines, Arthur snapped out of his former mood and began to sing along, if only telling himself it was "to keep the Frog from making My Little Pony look bad". Francis winked back at his friends, letting them know he had done it on purpose.

Alfred's face was one of brief shock and the joy, and he clapped. Ivan smiled, and then took Alfred's hand to lead him away. But before the Russian boy could begin to listen to the many things now pouring forth from the American about being 'heroic' and 'saving the day', Mr. Vargas called his name. Ivan paused and turned his head.

"Ivan, you need to go the front office, okay?" Mr. Vargas said, as the young boy came closer to hear, not that he needed to, but to be polite to the other students. "Ve, the lady in the front said your mama is here!"

Ivan blinked in a moment of thought, and then remembered. He asked to bring Alfred, to which Mr. Vargas didn't see a problem with and agreed. Taking the other blonde's hand, and a note to get through the front office, Ivan and Alfred went to the front office to see what had the Russian's mother had brought him.

Sure enough, Fey was sitting down; a small bundle nestled warmly in the small carrier on the floor. Natalya was saying things in small gurgles and noises, and her mother was humming with her, tsking her at times to quiet down and then tapping her nose at others. All in all, the large and freckled woman was minding her business, as she awaited the arrival of her son. Two boxes of store-brought cupcakes sat at her side, the price tag deeming them from an expensive bakery across town. One was full of chocolate chip cupcakes, with chocolate sprinkles and the other was strawberry themed.

Natalya made a particularly loud noise, and Fey looked up from her musing, parting her pale hair behind an ear, to see Ivan coming around a corner with Alfred. She smiled at the boys, greeting her son in Russian and saying hello to Alfred, as well. She liked the American boy, he was soft and warm, and she liked to use him as an excuse to bake when he came over to spend over the night. Fey didn't get many opportunities to bake, what with Natalya always demanding attention, but when Ivan and Alfred played with her, the babe hardly noticed her mother's absence.

"Hi, Mrs. B!" Alfred greeted, as the woman stood to rise from her chair. She opened her arms to hug the boys, Alfred lingering longer to smell the something sweet on her dress. Alfred smiled, "You smell like chocolate and strawberries!" Fey smiled at the American boy, as Ivan poked his baby sister in the nose. The babe giggled and gurgled at her brother, and then made to reach for him, waving her pudgy arms. Her eyes flashed, but without her teeth, it looked like only a trick of the light.

"Privet mother," Ivan greeted, and then looked to the cupcakes, "Are those for my class or big sister?" Fey turned slightly, careful of herself, and smiled down at her son. "Those are for you, moya lapushka, I brought Katyusha's cookies a bit, and she came a bit earlier to get them."

Ivan nodded, as Alfred turned from looking at Natalya and saw the cupcakes. "Oh my God! Cupcakes! This is the best day ever! Yes, I needed this sugar, for like ever! Mom isn't buying enough snacks anymore, and this totally makes up for it! Ivan, I love you!" After his semi-long happy rant about finally getting some sugar, Alfred hugged his friend around the shoulder. Then Alfred hugged Fey around her knees, making her start a bit, until she remembered to look down and not just kick at the thing that had scared her. She patted Alfred's head, before he broke away to try and pick up Natalya to hug her too.

The babe was startled first, her blue-violet eyes blinked repeatedly to adjust to the light, her pale-blonde hair whiter than her skin and the few strands barely showing in the light. Her pale freckles were visible though, just like in her mother. She opened her mouth, as Alfred hugged her, bringing the infant demon babe right at his neck. The babe made a small noise and drooled, before licking at the skin presented to her reached. She did not have fangs, but she had a tongue, and she could still taste her food.

"Ew, that tickles, she is licking me!" Alfred whined aloud, and Ivan quickly took his sister away. Her baby face was one of sour infant, as she kicked and wailed loudly. Fey sighed and took the infant away, trying to shush her, and finally giving up and getting a pink-tinted bottle. That quieted Natalya sooner than it should have. The smell of Alfred had made her hungry. Something about that was wrong.

Ivan tried to derail his mother's thoughts on Alfred, seeing how closely she was eying him without being obvious, as he asked the American blonde to take a box to bring back to the class. Ivan took the remaining one, thanking his mother, and voicing to his baby sister not to be greedy and becoming a 'living baby ball'. Before Fey could reprimand her son on saying such, the boy and his friend were gone.

Nonetheless, she checked after their scent. She could easily pick up her son's; it was truly unique, already strong with underlying power, though he was still a child. He would become something great, just like his father, she just knew. But something about Alfred's scent made her confused. It was wild and sweet, and yet…it held the scent of another newborn demon. But Fey knew for a fact that the scent was not from Natalya, her daughter did not smell that type of sweet.

Making a mental note to bring it up later, in the security of her own home, with her son; Fey picked her dress and her daughter, bidding good-bye to the secretary and then leaving the school grounds to a shadowy location to vanish into thin air.

Meanwhile, Ivan was inwardly going over Alfred's smell in his own mind, as he showed off the cupcakes to the class. Every one of the children cheered; even Mr. Vargas clapping and jumping for joy even thought he showed the slightest disappointment, as he said aloud that he was breaking his diet. "Ah well," he said, as Alfred held up the box of chocolate chip cupcakes to him, beaming, the Italian plucked one up and at into it. He moaned in his mouth, "Luddy will forgive me for this. Even, if this is only once!"

When the chocolate chip cupcakes were gone, Ivan showed the box of strawberry ones. As his mother had planned, there was one that smelled different from the rest. Ivan chose that one, and bit into it curiously. A sweet river of blood ran over his tongue, and he giggled happily among his friends. Alfred had pink frosting on his face, and Francis was trying to lick the frosting on the corner of his lips. Arthur was the only one trying to be dignified in his cupcake-eating: He was using a spoon from his lunchbox and napkin.

Everyone was enjoying their cupcakes, becoming happy over the sugar. It was only a matter of time, before it happened…

The Sugar High.

Toris was first, even though he had yet to finish his cupcake. He burped. Loudly. After blushing a bit, when all eyes turned to him, he slurred, as if drunk, "A-kuma-na-ma-ta! What a won-der-ful phrase!" Feliks laughed at the other, licking his fingers and then stealing the other's cupcake and enjoying the rest of it, as Toris began crawling along the floor and calling himself 'Simba, the next Lion King.'

Im Yong Soo was next, as he hiked up his pants and began dancing, and chanting out, "Hey sexy lady! I said a Gangham Style!" He started doing a flurry of dance moves, completely out of order, and falling over his feet several times, only to giggle and roll on the floor.

Then came Yao and Kiku into the sugar high, who began building a castle of multicolored blocks and proclaiming themselves warring kings. Then they began throwing imaginary arrows and making 'air-swooshing' noises, with flamboyant gestures.

It was not too much longer before nearly all of the children were doing silly and sillier things. Mr. Vargas was not really affected, besides giggling more and spinning more than was necessarily called for. Francis was acting loopy, shrieking to himself about seeing fairies. "Non, no," he kept repeating to thin air. "You're not real! You're not real! Leave me alone!"

The French boy hid Arthur, but the Brit was barely keeping his head up. His eyelids dropped over his green eyes, as he sucked his thumb. A lazy hand scratched his crumb-laced belly, as he finally closed his eyes and curled in on himself to go to sleep.

With the Brit down and off in dreamland, the supposed 'fairies' tried to talk to Francis again. But the French boy is persistent and stubborn, "I'm not listening! La-ala-la! I can't hear you! La-ala-la!" But after something about the ribbons in his hairs meets his ears, the boy quit ignoring the voices he heard. He promised to the wall that he wouldn't tell Arthur, to someone named 'Marie', and the two chat over hair and accessories for the next ten minutes.

Alfred was doing the worst of them all, bouncing off the walls and going around in tight circles. He was going so fast, that Ivan was having some difficulty in reading him. His words were all slurred together, like so, "OHMYGOD, thoseweresomeofthebestcupcak esEVER! ThankyouIvan,OHMYGOD, a SQUIRREL!"

Said American pointed to the small creature outside the window, and the boy ran laughing to it, until to find that his shoelaces were untied and he came face-to-face with the floor. For a long moment, he was still and Ivan almost thought he had passed out, when Alfred picked up his head. Ivan choked on his cupcake, barely stifling a snarl. Alfred's nose was bleeding.

"Owww," Alfred whined, his eyes tearing up. He began to cry, and despite his better instinct telling him to stay as far from Alfred as humanly possible, Ivan went to help the smaller boy up. He held his breath, as to not breathe in the sweet scent now surrounding him as he called out to his teacher. Said adult came over immediately, and Ivan found himself only reluctantly letting go of Alfred's hand.

About five agonizing minutes later, in which Ivan tried to keep his mind and the palate itching at the back of his throat occupied, nearly taking a bite out of his fingers and earning himself a Band-Aid, Alfred was doing much better. He wasn't crying, but he had a small wad of tissue paper up his nose to stop the bleeding. He was still feeling the last bits of his sugar high, so luckily some of his pain was dulled. His nose wasn't broken, but the pain was about the same unfortunately.

Ivan, after deeming the area safe enough to be without too much temptation, came back to Alfred. The American was immediately happier to see him, despite the look of slight worry etched in Ivan's features. "Dude, like, thanks for the cupcakes! Even if I kind of ruined your moment, what with my falling on my face like a dork," the American boy apologized.

Ivan smiled, nodding, "Da. It was nice, but don't apologize. It was because of your shoelaces." He pointed to said laces still being untied, and Alfred glared at them. He waggled his foot, uselessly, as if trying to make the shoe magically tie itself.

"Superheroes don't have to tie their shoes," Alfred grumbled, Ivan chuckled; as he bent down to tie the shoes himself. Alfred was so funny. So bright. So alive. And all he is for the taking.

"Da, that is true," Ivan said, as his eyes flashed a dark and sinister shade for a brief moment, while Alfred couldn't see his face. When he was done, he raised his head with his brightest smile. "They have their sidekicks do it for them." Alfred beamed back, "Yeah! And the sidekicks never let down their hero!"

Ivan smiled back, but a dark thought was drifting through his mind, as he could smell the blood behind the tissue wad. The palate at the back of his throat itched and his fangs tingled with the allure that was so maddeningly close. So easy to take. But Ivan would wait. Yes, he would wait.

He wanted for Alfred to come to him, and what better way than by friendship?

"Da, that is also true," Ivan said and mentally finished:

_The sidekicks never leave their Hero's side._

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**-END CHAPTER-**

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…I think I should let you guys know: This story is going to get a bit darker from here, and we're going up in ages. I mean like, we're seeing these bad boys grow up and then thicken and then BAM.

Happy Fucking New Year, you guys! Hope you had a great time! Hope you're finally sober enough to read this! XD [Actually, based on how late I am, you guys should totally be sober by now. Otherwise, there is a serious problem with your liver…unless you just got drunk today? oxO]

…Arthur's story had me rollin'. I was like: "Did I seriously just write that? Yes, I did. And I am proud. I'M UGLY AND I'M PROUD." XD

[Fun Fact: On New Year's, don't surprised if you are invited out at 11:30 pm, drink champagne and cognac until 6 am, eat herring under a fur coat and Olivia salad in a kitchen, and then party in a flat for three more days.]

Any questions? Comments? Leave it in a review and make me have a smile for my day~

~Bai-Marionette

**If I said whoever reviews, gets to live after this, would you?**

**READ AND REVIEW!**


	9. Play Date

******My Friend, For Eternity**

******Rating:**T

******Summary****:** Children!AU He didn't know he had made friends with the very son of the Devil. All he knew was that he finally had a friend. Finally, a friend that wouldn't leave him, no matter what he did…He finally had someone. RusAme

**__****BrooklynBabbii**

* * *

******A/N: **** No excuse for lateness, not gonna lie – Tumblr played a huge role in it. *****Sigh*****I**** need to get a hold of my life.**

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******Thank you all for waiting oh-so patiently~**

******So, as my only real way of thanking you all for your patience —**

******I present to you: **Chapter Nine****** of "**___My Friend, for Eternity_******"!**

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******:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

******.:Chapter Nine:.**

___Play Date_

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Ivan had known for a while that Alfred had a tendency to flinch at the mere thought of being alone, while Mathew would often cry if he was left in a dark room for any period of time. It didn't take a genius or, even demon intelligence – let alone supernatural senses – to see that something bothered the children as to not like being alone in the dark. It was especially bad, these fears, when their father would return home late or when said parent would talk to their mother in barely hushed and firm tones in the kitchen or on the back patio. _Something about time and money,_ he said, it was almost always about money. _Somebody keeping him out,_ she would say back, it was always why he would come back home late.

Some nights their hushed tones would fall apart and the couple could be heard yelling at each other. This was when Mathew would start to cry, asking if it was really all of his fault and Alfred would say it wasn't – until their father would bring up hospital bills or something else about how their finances were being crippled by Mathew's constant doctor visits for his sensitive health.

Alfred would glare at the patio door, or if he thought he could get away with it, he would call his father a "selfish tin head". It was something his mother said often, albeit with a different choice of words, but their meaning remaining along the same lines. When the arguments were over, and her saying this was becoming more frequent as time wore on. Weeks passed, and Mathew would catch another cold to put him in bed for another couple of days. Alfred would avoid playing in the living room, unless he was told by his mother that he could turn up the volume as loud as he wanted. Only then – would he stay in the same level of the house when his parents argued.

Even as a child, the boy could take charge. He could grab a hold of his crying brother, ignoring his own mother's hybrid mix of crying and yelling back at his father, and then he would ask Ivan to bring up the toys to his room. There, he would get tissue from the hall bathroom and wipe his brother's face, being careful about his nose like his mother always was, and then pecking his brother on the forehead, just his mother would have done. It always seemed to do the trick in calming Mathew down, and then came the matter of keeping him that way. Alfred would feign ignorance of earlier events and distract his little brother by letting him play with his action figures and other toys. Ivan would join in, whether he actually wanted to play or not, because Alfred looked so much happier that his little brother was no longer crying. Ivan had tried to get that same happiness out of him, but it seldom worked – he only got the lower grade substitute, but he was even more proud of himself when he got it right. Alfred's smile was worth being proud of, if he was the reason it was there.

His smile could brighten any darkness, or so Ivan thought. For there were times even when Ivan slept over, and that annoying night light made an unheard whirring noise that seemed that humans couldn't pick up with their hearing range, Alfred still refused to sleep in the dark. But that was what the night light was for, he would say, only for Alfred to disagree. Alfred would always ask that Ivan waited until after he had fallen asleep before doing so himself.

Ivan had always obliged, not really knowing why, until the summer of their next second grade year.

Mathew had gotten up out of bed, after a whole week of having horrid nightmares and a high fever, but nothing else wrong; he had gone on his own to get a drink of water. However, he had realized on the way down the stairs, that he was still too small to even get up on the counter to get a cup. But he was still thirsty, so he sought out the superhero plastered door of his older brother.

Alfred had already been asleep, but Ivan was still awake. Or at least he was, by the time Mathew had come down the hall. The Russian child had kept his eyes closed, feigning sleep, as Mathew knocked softly and peeked inside. His eyes had changed color over the past few months, something his mother had fretted about; but the doctor had proclaimed it nothing serious. But it was the beginning of something serious, just something out of the control.

Right then, Mathew's eyes were a warm shade of violet-blue, the mix giving off a mysterious aura of allure to the young child barely out of his training underwear and still struggling to put his own clothes correctly. "Alfie?" He whispered, and then tried a little louder. "Are you awake?"

"Nyet," Ivan said, making the effort to feign a small yawn, as it was late according to his inner biological clock. Possibly around midnight or so. "What is it, little Matvey?" Ivan used the pet name purposely, as the younger boy looked horribly scared at being in the unlit portion of the hallway; at the sound of Ivan's voice, he was racing almost blindly in the dark, in his little footie pajamas, and trying to climb onto Alfred's bed.

He grabbed onto Alfred's foot, however, despite Ivan's outreached hand, and that set off the usually heavy sleeper American. Alfred sprang up, eyes wide and every word for terror filled his face. His eyes grappled with the dark for any sight, as he fumbled to find sight of what had grabbed him. However, when he saw his little brother, he would have a miniature moment of even more panic, before he blinked a couple of times and finally asked, "Mattie? Why are you out of bed? Ma said you aren't supposed to be getting up after you took your medicine..."

Mathew would look down at his little padded feet, mumbling an apology, before Alfred said it was okay, and then asking why the other was up in the first place. "Water," Mathew said simply, "I just wanted some water...I can't get it on my own."

The youngest of the three looked sad at the mention of his height, he had caught word of the doctors saying - on more than one occasion – that he might not grow to his fullest potential if he couldn't stay healthy. How his mother would always say she fed him well and gave him the medicine prescribed, and had no idea of how he still got sick, and how the doctor would look as if he didn't believe her. Especially, when he compared Alfred's healthy and prime physique to Mathew's often pale and sickly complexion, and further still to how underweight the younger boy was to the average child.

But Alfred knew it wasn't his mother's fault; Mathew was just still a little sick. And the doctors were getting sad, because they didn't know what was wrong. That was all. When Mattie got better, then everything would be awesome again! His parents would stop yelling out in the patio and kitchen, Mathew would have to take so many different pills and medicines to be okay, and then they could laugh and be a good family again...

"It's okay, Mattie," Alfred started, making his way on getting out of bed. He pulled Ivan's hand to follow him out, as the American boy tried to help his little brother out of the bed too. When it looked like Alfred was standing a bit too far to the left to fully catch the other boy, Ivan took the blind spot, easily helping to maneuver the other child down to the floor.

"Now," Alfred said, grinning, as he put Mattie to his right, and made Ivan take the younger boy's hand. "Let's go get your water, now." When Alfred grinned, Mathew smiled and Ivan couldn't help but to return the action. Walking down the hall, in tandem, giggling and shushing each other – well, Alfred and Ivan shushed each other, Mathew sounded like he was pushing wet air through his mouth. The youngest boy kept having difficulty in making the simple sound.

They tried to keep their laughter down to a minimum, going down the stairs, although a couple of steps into their journey to the kitchen – a small noise was heard from Alfred and Mathew's shared parents' room. The boys paused, the human boys holding their breath and Ivan pretending to do so, as to not feel left out.

But the noise turned out to be nothing, most likely one of the adults rustling in their bedsheets.

Alfred let out a sigh of relief, and Mathew clung tighter to each of the boys' hands. Ivan asked if they were still going to get the water, to which Alfred said, "Yeah, what kind of big brother would I be, if I let Mattie die of thirst?"

Although Mathew had seemed touched at the sentiment, Ivan had rolled his eyes. The older American boy had often forgot that he was one in charge of making sure that his little brother made it to the bathroom before be. Mathew was still getting in the hang of using the toilet, and not his own underwear – something, which one would expect Alfred to help his younger brother out on.

Although sometimes, Alfred had a time with remembering himself; the American boy would sometimes have an accident in his bed after a horrible nightmare always involving a pair of alluring and vibrant violet eyes and the sound of an evil laugh echoing off of the dark walls of his dream.

While Ivan made work of getting the water pitcher, Alfred made use of a chair to get on the counters to get three sets of glasses. He chose an Avengers themed cup for himself, a sippy cup for his little brother, and a sunflower themed one for Ivan. The Russian had said on more than one occasion that he liked the bright yellow flowers, and Alfred was in the process of convincing his mother to give him a little money to buy the seeds. That and the American boy was saving up his money.

They all set at the table, trying to act like good and innocent children, whilst they talked quietly over trivial things. Alfred ran his mouth about how he was going to spend his summer, all of his big plans and how he was going to get a sunburn for having so much fun in the sun. Mathew asked if his older brother or Ivan would teach him to swim. Alfred said he would, and Ivan promised to help him if the other forgot. Then, the Russian brought up the mention of Arthur and Francis, and Alfred got really excited.

And a tad too loud.

Ivan and Mathew had tried to shush him, but to no avail – noises began upstairs, and every boy held his breath. This time, Ivan really did. Their luck turned even worse, when it was not Alfred and Mathew's gentle and easy-going mother, but their father. Their father was not only grumpy for being woken up, but woken up early in the morning. "Do you kids have any idea of what time it is? Why aren't you in bed?" He started, as he came in, face disapproving. He snatched the water pitcher from the table, and put it back in the fridge. "Back to bed. All of you, especially you - Al, I thought you knew better at least, you're supposed to be a good big brother!"

"Sorry, sir..." Alfred said, keeping his head down, as he got out of his chair. Mathew was starting to cry, and their father was not having any of it. He took Mathew out of his little booster seat, sighing a bit too angrily to just be grumpy at finding his kids and their friend having water at two in the morning. Something else was bothering him. Mathew was really crying now, as their father put the dishes by the sink to be taken care of later and ushered the boys back to bed.

It was when they were being led back up the stairs, that Alfred's father made one last comment, "And Ivan goes home tomorrow, Al, I'm not kidding. He's been over for the past week, let him spend time with his own family."

"But-" Alfred started, turning to Ivan who stood as wide-eyed as the American. Mathew was still crying, and it would seem even harder now. The noise was going to wake their mother sooner rather than later.

Alfred's father didn't allow for an argument, "Unless you want to get your tail beat in front of your little friend, you better keep your mouth shut. Now, go to bed." With that said, he left – taking Mathew with him to put back to sleep, as Alfred sniffled. But the American boy was angry too.

Nonetheless, so that he would get in further trouble, he resolved to bring it up with his mother to see if she could do something about the situation, as he trudged himself back to bed. Ivan was quick to follow him, after practically snatching his shadow from going after Alfred's father. No, the Russian had told himself, as his teeth made a small ache and his eyes glowed. He wouldn't take Alfred's father here in the home. He couldn't.

Yet.

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******Play Date**

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Alfred's mother had somewhat resolved the situation, feeling some form of anger with her husband for being so mean to their son; but she arranged a little play date for all of Alfred's friends in the afternoon, and had even managed to get Mathew at least some partial enjoyment of the afternoon with Natalya and Katyusha, since Alfred had complained about wanting to only play with his friends. His mother had tried to convince him, but Alfred had been stubborn on having his way. His father had almost canceled the entire thing, because of how he viewed Alfred's attitude, a few strings pulled on his mother's part had kept the play date alive.

"Look at us, Madame Jones!" Francis began, flipping his hair and striking a pose beside Alfred in their bathing suits in the little inflatable pool. "We are fabulous!"

Alfred was grinning, his superhero-themed trunks a bit tighter on his hips than his mother had thought they should be, but the maternal parent had put the thought aside – calling it Alfred's pudgy tummy, and nothing more, her eldest son was perfectly healthy.

She looked up, pushing back her curls of pale gold behind her ear. Her shades hid the amusement in her violet eyes, but nonetheless, she still giggled and said, "Yes, mon petite Francis, I see you and Alfie being 'fabulous'."

Alfred's mother had taken French in high school, and though she had never gotten to really use it – she had found use of it now, with Alfred's little friend Francis. The boy's entire family was actually full-blooded French – actually from France as Francis had said multiple times, and the boy's mother, Joan, had been delighted in talking to the other and helping her catch back up with the language. Unfortunately, Alfred's mother's French had gone rusty since high school, as predicted, and Joan talked far too fast for the other mother to catch much of anything at all.

Francis blushed at the slight endearment, giggling, and then ducking down into the water and then smiling through the water to watch Alfred's mother through the plastic covering of the pool. She was giving Natayla her pacifier, and the little girl was crawling around on the blanket in circles, while Mathew sang along to something on the radio, with her.

"Do you still have that crush on my mom?" Alfred began to ask, his voice a bit too loud, he looked over to where his mother sat, and he frowned. Francis hurriedly shushed him, blushing deeply, as he muttered, "No."

Arthur was quick to input his own argument against it, "You better not leave me for Alfred's mom." He already sounded jealous. "If I find out you're sharing your toys with anyone but me, I'm gonna be really mad, Francis. Really mad."

Alfred rolled his eyes, as the two boys immediately began to bicker over something or another, and he went to where Ivan was sitting pleasantly by himself on the other end of the little pool. The Russian was humming to himself, and nodding his head as he went, seemingly enjoying himself. He waved at Alfred, as the other sat beside him. "Hi Fredka, what's wrong?" He asked, as he noticed his friend's frown.

"My Dad's not here," Alfred explained, looking around and not finding said person. "He said he'd take the day off, like Mom..." The little American seemed about to frown again, when Ivan took his hand and pulled him back from the edge of the pool.

"Maybe he's had to go get ice cream or something," Ivan said, "You did say that you guys were running low on it. Maybe your mother told him to get it before he came home." Alfred thought about the idea and smiled, that made sense. It made total sense! Of course, his father was still coming to the little pool party! He still had to teach Alfred how to do that one swimming trick. Alfred's father had used to like to boast that he had been on the swimming team in college – whatever college was.

"Yeah!" Alfred said, "He's getting the ice cream!" He pounded his fist into his palm, physically displaying that he liked the idea. He grinned, his prior sadness and worry forgotten. At the mention of ice cream, Francis and Arthur stopped bickering and turned around. Arthur had been in the mid-process of trying to dunk the French boy in the water; Francis had been about to pull off Arthur's swimming trunks.

"Who's bringing ice cream?" Arthur began to ask, taking his hands from Francis' hair and coming over to Ivan and Alfred. Francis shook the water from his hair, as the British boy fixed his shorts. "Can we ring them and ask if they can bring strawberry for me? I think strawberry ice cream is the best, especially the one with the little strawberry bits in it." He smiled, as he thought of the frozen treat.

Francis scoffed, flipping his ponytail to his other shoulder to be more dramatic, "As if! It is rocky road that is the best!"

"Strawberry," Arthur defended, his hands already clenching into fists. He was already looking ready for another water fight or argument, whichever happened first. Or more likely, whichever happened to let him be the winner. He and the other boy had been keeping score with each other on who had won what argument or battle.

So far, it was 3-4.

Arthur was behind in a point, because he had said that the French made the worst chips in the world, which led to Francis going on Google and looking up French-brand chips and finding them better than most others. This led to Arthur meaning to say that he had meant the chips like 'french fries', to which Francis had blinked and said that those weren't even French at all – they were American, but the French could still make them better. Arthur had simply told him to shut up and take the "stupid point, already."

He hating losing so much.

"I like plain vanilla," Ivan butted in, trying to diffuse the argument before it had begun. He didn't want to get splashed again, that was why he had moved to the other side of the pool in the first place. He didn't so much like how the water would get in his eyes and make them hurt without stinging. It felt weird.

"Really?" Alfred said, turning to the taller boy sitting down in the water. "I always thought I was weird for just liking the plain flavors! Gee thanks, dude!" Alfred held up his hand for a high-five. Ivan' pause was short, and his response was quick as he high-fived the other back, smiling back. "Da," he said, "what are friends for?"

"We're friends, too, right?" Arthur began to ask, having forgotten about his disagreement with Francis – no wait, he hadn't, as he tripped the French boy in the water and laughed at him. Francis caught English boy's laughter short, by pulling him down with him. A great splash was made, and Arthur was soon nagging about how his shorts were soaking wet as he stood back up.

"That's the whole point of the bathing suit, Arthur!" Francis huffed, "To get them wet in the water!" He was in the process of getting up and putting his hands on his hips, head mused up in his little ponytail, "How could you not know that? It's even called a 'wet suit'! It's supposed to get wet, it's okay to get it wet!"

"Well, maybe I didn't want mine to get so wet!" Arthur countered. Alfred rolled his eyes again, and Ivan went back into his own mind, humming along to the song playing over on the radio. Alfred's mother had turned it, trying to find something, and had caught on a tune that she had liked.

"Ooh, here she comes – she's a man eater!"

"I know this song!" Ivan said, breaking his inner musing and disrupting Arthur and Francis' fight. "My father likes to sing this in the shower!" Alfred burst into laughter, his other friends not too far behind him, as Katyusha blushed horribly and Alfred's mother sputtered and turned it up, trying to pretend that she hadn't heard such a thing.

Ivan was getting up to dance to the song, pulling Alfred's hand and dragging the American boy up with him. Francis caught onto what Ivan was doing, as he tried to convince Alfred to dance with him. Francis beamed at Arthur, heard the small snarled retort of: "If you twirl me like some girl, I'll kick you in the shins," before he was swinging their arms together from side to side. As the tempo sped up, so did their movements.

Ivan sang aloud to the lyrics, remembering each and every word for where they were due. He twirled Alfred in a circle and went to swinging their arms. However, at the chorus, all the boys managed to join in. "Ooh, here she comes – she's a man eater!"

Katyusha giggled, twirling a lock of her hair, before she stood up from her lawn chair and she offered a hand to Mathew. He blushed but took it, and the large-breasted teen danced with the smaller child, both giggling along as Ivan sung the lyrics.

Mathew tried to roll his shoulders, like he saw his older brother doing, and only served to make himself look more adorable as the sun gleamed off of the sunscreen plopped on the tip of his nose. Alfred's mother danced in her seat, smiling and giggling at the fun the children were having, as she helped Natalya to find rhythm and clap along. The little babe grinned over her pacifier as she clapped, sometimes a little fast and sometimes a little too slow – but she was having fun, bouncing on Alfred's mother's lap and laughing.

"Ooh, here she comes – watch out, boy, she'll chew you up!" Alfred sang along with his friends, making to twirl Ivan like the other boy had done for him; it was all so much fun, he was having so much fun. He rolled his shoulders, stepping from side to side, trying to go along with the beat. When Ivan stepped out, but kept one hand on his, and then kicked his feet out, Alfred mimicked him and laughed, the smile traveling all the way to his eyes.

Francis and Arthur were having even more fun with each other, their personalities mixing just as well as the other two, as they were bumping hips with one another and side stepping along in the cool water, occasionally kicking out their feet. "Ooh, here she comes – she's a man eater!" Francis and Arthur sang along, shaking their finger in a tsking fashion and nodding their heads along with the beat. Arthur and Francis were smirking, and their grins were just as innocent as Alfred and Ivan's.

Alfred faked the trumpet solo, shaking his little hips, before the main verse came along, and the little group was back to singing along, Ivan as their lead. "Ooh, here she comes – watch out, boy, watch out!"

As the song ended, their group dancing and singing died down, and they were all smiles and giggles. Alfred turned to his mother, "Mom! Mom! Find another song! This is fun! We need to do it again!" Said parent nodded, having had fun herself, as her husband came through the gate door with two bags of ice cream.

He looked around, a bit confused, in his T-shirt and swimming trunks and sandals, "Did I miss something?" He joked, as he scratched his head. Alfred ran out to him, arms open for a hug as he started talking about it. His father's face started out amused, and then got more confused and then became sad, "You guys had a dance party without me? Not cool, Al! I thought you had my back! You should told the radio to wait for me!"

Alfred almost looked sad, not having thought about his dad while he had been having his fun, "But, I-I-"

"I was kidding, sport," His father said, grinning. He adjusted the ice cream in the bags, so that he could ruffle the boy's hair. His father wasn't mad about being left out? Really? Alfred blinked, and then laughed as he saw the joke in it, "Good one, dad!"

He followed after his parent, as he set the ice cream down on a side table brought out from the garage. "Sorry I took so long, everyone, traffic was being a very mean lady." Alfred's mother cast him a "Really?" look, and he shrugged, grinning sheepishly.

Alfred called his friends over to select their ice cream pieces, and everyone was holding their own flavor, when Natalya found the dial on the radio and just randomly turned the station, sucking on her pacifier.

"So light 'em up, up – I'm on fiiire!"

"Ooh, ooh, I know this song!" Arthur said aloud, already dancing along, "Can we keep it here? I like this song!" But already, he was halfway to his own world, as he danced along to the beat, whipping his hair and jumping around on his little feet. Everyone seemed a bit surprised, but then Natalya found the volume dial and tried to turn the radio on full blast. Arthur put his ice cream stick in the air as if it was the lighter, as he sang, "So light 'em up, up; so light 'em up, up – I'm on fire!"

Alfred soon decided to go along with it, finding the tune catchy, and danced with his British friend. Ivan joined them, Francis coming in last, as all of them tried to match Arthur's little punk-themed way of dancing, as they flipped their hair and rolled back their shoulders and seemed to hop from foot to foot and stomping at the guitar chords.

"My songs know what you did in the daark," Arthur sang, and the way that he sung could have been praised. He had heard this song more than once and he knew the lyrics. His friends took up on the chorus, "So light 'em up, up – so light 'em up, up, light 'em up, up - I'm on fiiire!"

Alfred's mother laughed at the scene, at how the children seemed to be enjoying themselves, and how Alfred's father was pretending to be playing an air guitar, making a 'metal sign' with his invisible chords, as he stuck out his tongue and rocked along with the kids.

Katyusha went back to dancing with Mathew, although he seemed to be leading her with the new tune. Natalya was trying to flip her baby hair like she saw Ivan and the other children doing, having put the radio aside, so that she could practice her new found clapping skills. She was throwing herself from side to side with the tune, her rhythm still wrong, but she was an infant and she was trying.

Taking her digital camera off of the side table, she sneaked multiple pictures – from Alfred and Ivan, to Arthur seemingly on his planet – rocking out to his favorite song, and then to Francis who was adding more faces and hand gestures as he danced to the rhythm.

The camera caught pictures of little Natalya having her own version of fun, bouncing on Alfred's mother's lap, and laughing. Pictures were captured of little Mathew dancing with the much bigger Katyusha who would occasionally swing off his feet, and then swoop him back down to the ground. All-in-all, it was a good afternoon.

They were all having fun.

___Friends have fun with each other._

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******-END CHAPTER-**

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The little dance scene with the pool and "Man eater" by Daryl Hall/John Oates and "My Songs Know What You Did in The Dark (Light 'Em Up)" by Fall Out Boys are actually based on something my friends and I did in the early start of summer. I thought I was so cute in my bathing suit, dancing to this on the side of the road. But, ahem, this isn't about me and my stupid antics, it's about the story and its RusAme.

We're getting somewhere, and sorry, guys, I couldn't just end the cute little kiddos so hurriedly. I had to have this scene – I had to use their innocence for this.

Any questions? Comments? Leave it in a review and make me have a smile for my day~

~Bai-Marionette

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******READ AND REVIEW!**


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